


You know what you can learn from a lady's shoe size? Nothing

by Wapwani



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:16:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4565991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wapwani/pseuds/Wapwani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cinderella AU. Cinderella doesn't get the Prince but the Evil Queen instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The inspiration/blame for this can be placed on tumblr's crappy mobile app, that shows you text ok but takes bloody ages to load up images. So, I saw the text of (what I didn't recognise as) Cinderella's 'will you take me as I am' speech, and thought 'aww someone's done a gif set of Emma asking Regina if she'll accept her just as she is.'
> 
> But when I realised the context of the line, it still made so much sense. Emma as Cinders, Regina as the Queen who is a much better choice than the Prince. And then this happened.
> 
> Other notes:
> 
> \- This Cinderella-verse is an amalgamation of the story/original animation/live action  
> \- Yes Regina's been married to Leopold, no she's not quite at 'crush everything and everyone' EQ level  
> \- Snow and David do not exist, not as Emma's parents anyway. Therefore the age difference between Emma and Regina isn't that dramatic  
> \- I'm not going to bring Cora or Rumplestiltskin into it, as this was supposed to be fairly lighthearted  
> \- This may not always be lighthearted
> 
> Disney owns all the toys, I'm just messing about in the sandbox.

 

She sat in the middle of the road, feeling the mud soaking into her tattered dress, and tried very hard to not wail in frustration. They were _so_ close to the house - she could just see the outline of their gates in the distance. The lizards perched one on each shoulder. The mice and rat scurried up into her skirts, finding hiding places in her pockets, alongside the one surviving glittering glass slipper. The pumpkin was a lost cause, lying in mushy pieces on the muddy ground; there’d be no warming soup made out of that now. She sighed and started to get to her feet. Thankfully it was only slightly below freezing tonight, and a walk would do her good; help her re-set her mind from the glamour of the ball to the reality of her life.

She felt the vibrations of the approaching carriage before she saw it. The ground thundered under the beating hooves of six black horses, and the carriage wheels bounded across the rough ground. She tried to hurry to her feet so she could get off the road and conceal herself in the bushes; but she was too slow. She heard an imperious voice call out “Stop the horses!”

By the time the horses had been reined in, and the footmen had leapt to draw down the steps and open the door, she had managed to stand, brush off the worst of the mud - though that now left her with muddy hands - and draw back to the side of the road.

She recognised the woman who stepped down from the carriage. This was not a good thing. She dropped into a low curtsey. “Your Majesty.”

 

***

 

Regina glared at the girl in the dirty dress. She seemed to have vermin crawling all over her. That was pleasant. Perhaps they should have simply run her into the dirt. But then the girl stood from her, admittedly well executed, curtsey; even though she kept her eyes lowered, Regina recognised her.

“You!” She exclaimed, her voice rising in shock. “The mysterious princess!”

Emma stared at her in surprise. She’d doubted anyone would recognise her out of her magical finery, but the Queen had known who she was right away.

“Hello,” she said.

“What are you doing in these woods? Dressed like that? Have you been attacked?”

She shook her head. “It’s a long story. I’m just trying to get home.”

“And where exactly is ‘home’?”

She waved vaguely at the distant gates.

Regina glared at her, glared towards the gates, then glared at her footmen. “Well, what are you waiting for? Help her up into the carriage!” She turned back to Emma. “The vermin can ride up top with the driver.”

“Oh. Thank you, your Majesty.”

 

***

 

Inside the carriage, Regina allowed Emma about ten seconds to settle down before demanding answers to her queries.

“A fairy godmother.”

“Yes.”

“Three magical dresses.”

“Yes.”

“And a pumpkin carriage.”

“Yes.”

“All of which disappeared at midnight.”

“Yes.”

“What sort of weak magic is that?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Typical of fairies. The most impractical of creatures.”

“I wouldn’t know. That was the first time I’d ever met a fairy.”

“Count yourself lucky.”

A pause, then, “Prince Richard raised quite the outcry you know.”

“Oh?”

“Oh yes. He came into the ballroom, just after the stroke of midnight. Calling for horses to chase after you. Some people thought you’d stolen the crown jewels.”

“I am no thief!”

“Yes, my dear. I know. All the other princesses are still back there, hoping to win him over. But I know a loss when I see it. So I left early. Lucky for you.”

 

***

_They had met two nights ago, at the first of the Royal Balls that the King and Queen were throwing to find Prince Richard a wife. There were hundreds of women there. Lots of men too, hoping to benefit from Richard’s leftovers, but the women were all she’d remember. The colours; the frills; the flowing skirts; the sparkling jewels; the hair piled high exposing elegant necks; or worn down, creating a mysterious silhouette._

_Even amongst this plethora of women, Regina stood out. She wore black, highlighted with red, and she sparkled. She was bold and dismissive and sometimes quite cruel. The men flocked to her, gathering around her like birds pecking at whatever crumbs she was willing to throw down. Even Richard was captivated. Until the mysterious princess walked in, late and a little breathless from running up all those stairs. He made his way directly to her, and Regina had frowned._

_But despite his obvious interest in the mysterious woman, this was still a Royal Ball, and he still had a duty to perform. His father dragged him aside and reminded him that there would be two more nights of this. People had traveled from all over the world, from hundreds of miles away. He would not make his choice on the first night!_

_So that night and the next, Richard had danced with other women. Had left her side for minutes at a time while he talked to princesses with better-verified bloodlines and dowries. But the mysterious princess was not alone when the Prince was not with her. Regina would, quite accidentally, be in her vicinity whenever Richard stepped away. And though she started out with her claws barely concealed, something about the girl’s innocence and bright-eyed wonder had worked its way past Regina’s calculating attacks. She found herself laughing - real laughs, not the fakery everyone else got; she found herself taking a genuine interest in what the girl thought. It was a most unsettling feeling, but such an unusual one too that Regina found herself seeking out the girl’s company more and more. Her resentment grew each time Richard returned, ignoring Regina to claim the girl again. But instead of that resentment being directed against her rival - the mysterious, bafflingly endearing, princess - it was the Prince himself who drew her ire, for stealing the woman away from her._

_On the third, and final, night Richard had been virtually attached to the mysterious princess’s side. It was most frustrating. Regina had drunk a little more wine than was entirely wise. The ball had been going on for quite a while when the girl had found her, standing on the balcony, staring out at the moon-lit ponds while the wind played gently with the trees._

_“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Regina!”_

_A sardonic curl of her lip. “It appears Prince Richard has made his choice.”_

_“Oh. Don’t be angry, please? Some of the other women have been … a little unkind.”_

_Regina frowned. “Who?” Her hands curled, itching to strike out at someone._

_“That’s not important.” A big sunny smile. “Besides, there’s no guarantee the Prince will want to marry me.”_

_Regina glowered at her. “Have you not been paying attention?”_

_“He thinks you’re very interesting.”_

_Regina laughed. “Oh no. No. It’s you he wants.” She shrugged. “I’ll find another prince to marry.”_

_“But you’re already a queen. Why would you want to marry a prince?”_

_“A widowed queen,” she reminded her. “A queen with ambitions. An expansion of territory through marriage is less … messy … than a war. And princes are easier to govern than kings. Princes are still accustomed to being told what to do.”_

_The girl laughed and shook her head. “I’ve never heard anyone speak as bluntly as you. Will you not marry for love then?”_

_Regina shrugged again, indicating how much she thought of love, and would have said something else but she noticed Richard making his way towards them. She sighed. “Love is not for everyone my dear. But I wish you every happiness with yours.”_

_Then she did something so ridiculous that if any of the men courting her had tried it, she’d have hit them over the head with her fan. She took the girl’s hand in her own, raised it to her lips, and kissed it. “Fare thee well, my mysterious beauty.”_

_She hurried away before she had to answer any questions._

_It was close to midnight; still early, but time for her to go. She’d make no marriage allegiance here. She sent for her carriage, but there was a delay of some sort. A big gold carriage blocking the entrance, preventing other carriages from pulling up to the stairs. Then there was some sort of commotion, lots of shouting and men in blue and silver livery running around with their wigs askew calling for horses and riders. She managed to slip away in all the confusion, forcing herself to think instead of her next conquest._

 

***

 

They were inside the house now, the rooms darkened and cold because she’d turned the lamps down low and let the fires go out before she’d left. Regina had swept through the doors, brushing her objections aside, all imperial and haughty. Emma could imagine what she was seeing; the tattered edges to the curtains; the fraying carpets; the grime that had set in no matter how hard she scrubbed.

“This was your father’s house?”

“Yes. And my mother’s too.”

“Of course. So, you’re _not_ a serving girl?”

Emma shook her head.

“Then why are you dressed like that?”

Emma blushed, but the question hadn’t been mean. Just curious. “After father died, there wasn’t much money to go around.”

“Have you no relatives? Someone who you could go to?”

“Oh, I wasn’t alone. My stepmother, and stepsisters, they live here too.” Regina arched an eyebrow, looking around the empty room. Emma stammered, “They went to the ball.”

“I see. They went, and you weren’t allowed to.”

Nod.

“I didn’t notice anyone else dressed … less salubriously than you’d expect.”

Emma looked confused for a moment, then down at her own clothing. Awareness dawned. Regina thought all the women of the house lived in the same straitened circumstances. “They had dresses made up.”

“I see.” Regina’s voice was growing lower and colder by the minute. “So, the three of them could rival the finery of all the ladies at the ball, but you - you had to resort to the assistance of a sub-par fairy?”

“She’s not sub-par!”

“Show me your rooms.”

“Regina, I don’t think-”

“Show me.”

Emma sighed, and led her up into the attic.

It was even colder up here than she remembered. The wind rattled the loose window panes and went whistling through the chinks in the walls.

“You sleep here?” Regina’s eyebrows looked like they were fighting to disappear into her hairline.

Emma shook her head, contemplated resisting for a handful of seconds, sighed, and led Regina down into the kitchen.

“At least it’s warmer,” was the only comment Regina made as she glowered at the kitchen. “But I don’t see a bed.”

“Well...I don’t use a bed...as such.”

“Do you sleep hanging upside down from the ceiling?”

“No!” She couldn’t help glancing over to the roll of blankets she’d shoved under a stool. They’d been a pale blue once, but now they were more a grimy grey, streaked with soot, and riddled with small holes where sparks had leapt from the fire and burned.

“I see.” Wars had been started over tones more friendly than that. “And if I were to ask where your stepmother and stepsisters sleep…?”

“Their bedrooms.”

“Where they sleep in actual beds, I assume? Beds with legs. And mattresses?”

Emma sighed. “It’s not as bad as it looks. Honestly. It’s warm, and I have company.”

“The vermin.”

“They are my friends!”

Emma’s eyes blazed with righteous anger, and Regina looked surprised. This was the first time she’d seen any true sign of defiance from the girl, and it was in defence of mice and rats. Her next question was asked in far gentler tones.

“Did you never tell anyone else, how you are treated here?”

Emma shook her head. “This is my home,” she said quietly. “The only one I know. I don’t want to leave it.”

“How long...how long have you lived like this?”

“Ten years. I think. I haven’t kept good track of time.”

“And in ten years - this is the first time your fairy godmother made an appearance?” The snarl was back in her voice now.

“I’ve never asked for help before! You can’t blame her for that.”

“And when you do ask for help - she gives you dresses.”

“I just wanted to go to the ball! I wanted to...to...see what it was like. To be somebody else, just for a little while, for one night. I don’t need any more than that! Three nights was more than I could have dreamed of.” She had started out shouting, but by the time she’d run out of words, her voice was barely a whisper. Regina had moved towards her, her hands curling around the curve of Emma’s elbows, but before she could speak they heard the front door slam.

“Cinders!” Three voices called out.

“Where is that wretched girl?”

“The house is freezing!”

“I want some tea and cakes. I’m famished. I barely touched anything at the palace!”

Regina stared into eyes that had widened in fright. “Who is Cinders?”

“Me. That’s what they call me. Because of all the soot and sleeping by the fire and-”

“Charming.”

“Cinders!” One voice had drawn nearer, and Regina turned to see a tall, thin woman looming in the doorway. “Oh. We have company.” Her voice was arrogant, but then she stepped into the room, noticed who the company was, and a transformation came over her. The haughty lines of her face melted into a simpering smile and she dropped into a deep curtsey. “Your Majesty!”

“Good evening, Mrs -”

“ _Lady_ Tremaine,” the woman hastened to correct her. She straightened, and turned an acid look on Emma. “I must apologise your Majesty. Cinders should know better than to entertain a guest of _such_ distinction here … amongst the pots and pans.”

“She has been a most entertaining hostess.” Regina’s demeanour had changed again. She was back to being an imperious overlord of all she surveyed, but gracious with it.

“Your Majesty is too kind. Please, if you will come into the drawing room. It is a little cold there, I must confess. _Some_ one permitted the fires to go out,” She glared again at Emma. “But it is comfortable.”

“Lead the way.” Regina waved a lazy hand in permission.

Lady Tremaine clapped her hands at Emma and shooed her before them “Go and light the fire girl! Then fetch some wine and those sweet cakes you’re so fond of!”

Regina sauntered after Emma’s stepmother. She recognised her now, from the balls at the palace. She had two daughters always in her wake; pretty girls, if empty-headed and a little too obvious in their hunt for a husband.

The girls were in the drawing room now, flitting around as Emma tried to light the fire, peppering her with questions and demands. Emma had her head down, focusing on her task, ignoring her stepsisters as much as possible. Regina’s snarl was unconscious, but Lady Tremaine picked up on it right away.

“Can’t you light the fire any faster than that, girl! Her Majesty is cold!”

Emma glanced towards them, a fearful look in her eyes. Regina’s snarl grew more pronounced, and the fire flared into life. Emma scuttled away from the sudden heat.

“Finally!” Lady Tremaine said imperiously. “Now, wine, cakes. Hurry it up, girl. We don’t have all night!”

Her daughters gathered around their visitor, curtseying and falling over themselves to show off their wit and interesting conversation. Regina glanced at Lady Tremaine and said “I am fatigued. A little peace and quiet perhaps?”

The girls’ faces fell, but their mother shooed them out of the drawing room. “Go and help Cinders. Perhaps then she’ll be able to bring us our refreshments before dawn.”

“The girl,” Regina said when they were alone. “Your scullery maid - Cinders?”

“Yes. I do apologise for her. She is more trouble than she’s worth sometimes. I mean, I keep her on out of the kindness of my heart, but on days like this, I think I am being a little too generous.”

Regina’s look grew predatory. “I see.” She cleared her throat and leaned forward. “I find myself in sudden need of a new maid.”

Lady Tremaine could see the way the wind was blowing. “Cinders is an incredibly hard worker.”

“I can tell.”

“She’s a bit surly. But she’s clean.”

“Everything I could wish for.”

“I do have an...emotional attachment to the girl. You understand. As difficult as she can sometimes be, we are very _fond_ of her.”

Regina reached nonchalantly for the clasp of the ruby necklace she wore. She placed the piece of jewelry, dripping with filigreed gold and large glowing gemstones, on the table between them.

“A token of my esteem, in recognition of how much you have sacrificed for her.”

“Well,” Lady Tremaine’s hungry fingers traced over the necklace.

“A bag of gold to seal the deal?”

“Well,” she allowed her voice to waver.

“And two diamond tiaras for your daughters. Perhaps a sign of things to come?”

“You are more than generous, your Majesty.”

“We are agreed then?”

“Yes. Yes, I am resolved. It will be best for all concerned.”

Regina’s smile should have struck fear into Lady Tremaine, but she had turned to the door as Emma, closely trailed by Anastasia and Drizella, was reentering the room carrying a tray laden with glasses, a pile of cakes, and a decanter of wine.

“Girls! I have wonderful news!” She leaped to her feet, clapping her hands. “Cinders is to go work for the Queen.”

The only reason the tray didn’t hit the ground was that Regina had crossed the room, at a magically fast pace, to take it from Emma’s nerveless hands. “No,” she whispered.

“It will be for the best,” Regina said quietly, so only Emma could hear.

“This is my home!” Emma said angrily to her stepmother, ignoring the Queen.

“Who will get our meals?” Drizella wailed.

“And do all the cleaning up around the place?” Anastasia demanded.

“Girls!” Lady Tremaine was furious. “We will have _more_ than enough to hire some _proper_ servants. And you will soon be wed and wealthy. All will be well.”

Emma turned her angry glare at Regina, who said pointedly, “I am _asking_ for your _help_.”

Emma actually poked her in the chest. “I don’t _need_ your help!”

Regina snarled. “This is ridiculous. You are coming with me. Fetch your things. I am taking you away from this place.”

“This _place_ is my home!”

“And it can be again, if you would only just come with me now!”

“What?” Every other woman in the room asked at the same moment.

Regina sighed. “Nothing. Nothing. You were right Lady Tremaine. She can be a little trying.” She glowered at Emma. “Will you _please_ listen to what I am saying?”

Emma blinked. “Okay.”

“Good,” there was honest relief in Regina’s voice. “So, go, fetch your things.”

Emma looked around the room helplessly. “I don’t have any- Oh no, wait!” She turned and ran towards the stairs. They could hear her clattering up the stairs and rummaging around in the attic. She returned clutching two small portraits in cheap frames; these were the only surviving images of her mother and father. She had managed to rescue them from the great purge Lady Tremaine had carried out on her father’s death.

“That’s all?” Regina asked.

Emma nodded and Regina sighed. “Not a moment too soon,” she muttered as she swept out of the room, expecting everyone else to follow. They did.

Regina’s carriage was parked behind a curve of the driveway, shielded from the main house by a tall hedge. Her footmen hurried to meet her as she stalked down the stairs. She snapped her fingers at one of them.

“The walnut chest. Fetch it to me now.”

The men scurried away and returned hefting the heavy chest between them. They laid it gingerly at her feet. She lifted the lid, but it was too dark for anyone else to see into its depths. Regina reached in and pulled out a bag; it was heavy enough that she needed to use both her hands, and it clinked in a way that Lady Tremaine found most satisfying when she relieved Regina of the burden. The next thing Regina withdrew from the chest were two sparkly tiaras. She placed those in Lady Tremaine’s eager grasp too.

“We are done here.” It wasn’t a question.

She summoned her carriage, and before Emma quite realised what was happening, they were thundering down the driveway and through the gates. She hung her head out of a window, trying to catch a last glimpse of her home. Lady Tremaine and Anastasia had disappeared back into the house, but Drizella still stood on the stairs waving a little forlornly. Emma choked back a sob.

“Listen,” Regina said in a gravelly voice. “Prince Richard will be seeking you out. When you marry him, ask him for this place as a wedding present. Then it will be yours again.”

Emma stared at the queen as though she had gone mad.

“He won’t marry _me_. Look at me. I am a servant girl!”

Regina’s gaze raked over her. “I suppose if one can’t see past your exterior, it may present a problem.” She sighed. “Please do not ask for your fairy godmother’s help again. If you want to present yourself as a princess, you need clothing that lasts for longer than four hours.”

Emma giggled, then looked surprised at herself.

“Fine,” Regina said suddenly, as though she had been having a silent debate and had reached an agreement. “You will come back to _my_ castle. We will outfit you with a proper wardrobe. Then you can come back here and claim your Prince.”

“But...wait...Regina. Why are you helping me?”

“I wish I knew,” Regina muttered. “I hope I don’t make a habit of it.”

She picked up an ivory topped cane that lay by her side and pounded on the carriage roof with it. A little window popped open and the driver glanced through.

“Your Majesty’s command?”

“We’re taking the short way home.”

“Yes your Majesty.”

Emma heard him start reigning the horses in. “What’s the short way?” she asked.

Regina’s grin made her eyes glint with an evil glee. She raised her arms, twisted her wrists, gestured with both hands, and suddenly the carriage was filled with billowing purple smoke.

“What the-”

But the horses, the carriage, the drivers and footmen, Regina, and Emma herself had disappeared before she could finish speaking.

  


 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

“- dickens?”

Regina’s eyebrow arched in surprise. “Really? I magically transport us hundreds of miles, and that is the best word you can come up with?”

“Are you a fairy?!”

“No!”

“A witch then?”

“I am a queen! Who just happens to be able to do magic.”

There was a knocking at the window in the roof and Regina called out “What is it?”

The window popped open again and the driver looked in. “We’re here, your Majesty. Very well done. Right outside the doors. Couldn’t have done it better myself.”

Regina glowered at him and his face blanched and disappeared; the window swung shut hurriedly.

The footmen opened the door and lowered the stairs so they could climb down from the carriage.

“Welcome to _my_ realm,” Regina said breezily.

Emma stared at the towering castle before her. “Impressive,” she muttered.

 

***

 

Regina’s audience chamber was designed to be intimidating. Lots of shiny black marble, and gargoyles grimacing down from smoky sconces along the walls, and nowhere comfortable to sit except the massive throne that seemed to loom over everything from where it stood on the raised dais.

Her personal throne room was much different. There were paintings to soften the stone walls, and billowy curtains in the windows, and low settees along the walls for visitors. Emma perched on one of these now as Regina ordered her people about.

A small, frazzled looking, woman was the first to respond to the summons. She had pins stuck into the bodice of her dress, a lined tape around her neck, and her pockets overflowed with bits of yellow paper and chewed-on pencil stubs.

“The Royal Seamstress,” Regina said to Emma. Then to the woman, “Talia, she needs a complete wardrobe. Fit for a princess.”

“Well, let’s be having a look at you,” Talia said, shooing Emma to her feet.

She made Emma stand in the middle of the room and walked around her, eyeing her thoughtfully.

“Right. Oh I say, nicely done your Majesty. She’s very-”

Regina sighed. “Less commentary please, Talia.”

“Your wish is my command, your Majesty.” Talia said distractedly. She’d pulled the tape from her neck and was rearranging Emma’s body like she was a doll, moving her arms and putting her hands on her hips so she could twist her back and forth. Emma looked to Regina for a cue as to how to respond to this invasion.

Regina shrugged and shook her head. “If she wasn’t so good at what she does, she’d be hanging in a dungeon as we speak.”

Talia laughed. “They could do with some nice curtains down there.”

Regina sighed again, and rubbed at an aching point on her forehead. “Just dress the girl, Talia.”

At the end of it, after she’d measured and poked and prodded and measured some more, and written all sorts of arcane symbols down on pieces of yellow paper, and stuck herself with a pin a few times and Emma at least twice, and sketched out some quite startling looking gowns, Talia said “A week, maybe ten days. For the complete wardrobe. If you only want a few pieces-”

“Ten days is fine,” Regina said. “But you’d best go get started then.”

Talia left the room, still scribbling distractedly, and muttering about opposites and how good dark and light looked next to each other, and why would the queen not just let her design some sort of matching ensemble.

Regina sighed.

 

***

 

The days went by much quicker than either woman expected. And they went by much quicker than the palace staff wished. Regina had a towering temper and she was impatient and there were times she could be very cruel. It was true that she could also be generous and kind, when the stars aligned just right. But you could never be sure which Queen you’d get - the compassionate one or the terrifying. However, something about the mysterious visitor seemed to bring out Regina’s kinder and gentler side.

 

***

 

“What should I call you? ‘The mysterious princess’ is a bit of a mouthful. And you aren’t quite as sooty as you were under your step mother’s care, so ‘Cinders’ doesn’t really fit.”

“My parents named me Emma. But I can hardly believe it belongs to me any more.”

“Did you like the name? When you were younger?”

“Oh. Yes. ‘Emma Swan’. I haven’t been her in so long -”

“It’s a beautiful name. It suits you, Miss Swan.”

And Emma had laughed in surprised delight.

 

***

 

“Regina, you can’t have him flogged!”

“This is not your business, Miss Swan!”

“It was an _accident!”_

“That is not the point!”

“Regina, please. I don’t...no one deserves this. Please.”

“Emma.”

“Please don’t.”

“I won’t. Emma. Emma, please.”

“Don’t hurt him.”

“No one’s getting hurt Emma.”

And Emma finally uncurled herself from the corner, and allowed the Queen to hold her hands until she stopped trembling.

 

***

 

“What do you mean you can’t ride? You’ve never met an animal you didn’t immediately love!”

“That doesn’t mean I can ride a horse!”

“But...but... This can not stand! Rufus!”

Regina’s chief aide appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

“Miss Swan and I are going riding. She will need a horse of gentle disposition. See to it - something you’d put a child on.”

“Thanks, that’s very flattering.”

“Oh hush, Miss Swan. It’s for the best.”

  
  


“I told you I couldn’t ride.”

“I’ve never seen him bolt so fast.”

“There’s just something about me.”

“I’ve seen that horse stand rock steady when we were being rushed by ogres. _Ogres_. He takes one look at you on his back, and he’s half-way to Neverland.”

“I’m not made for riding. Thank you again, for saving me.”

“Any time, Miss Swan.”

 

***

 

“I said I wasn’t to be disturbed!”

“I’m so sorry your Majesty. We didn’t realise that Miss Swan would-”

“What are you doing here, Miss Swan?”

“They said you hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. And you hardly touched your dinner.”

“What does that have to do with you standing here...with a tray?”

“I made you breakfast.”

“Emma.”

“You need to eat.”

“You don’t need to do that. You aren’t a serving girl.”

“I know. But you looked so upset at dinner.”

The guards shuffled their feet and tried to look anywhere but at their queen.

“The negotiations were proving a little...delicate.”

“Want to talk about it? I made oatcakes. They’re amazing with honey.”

….

“Fine. Fine. Come in.”

 

***

 

“Prince Richard continues to scour his realm for you.”

“Perhaps I should write him?”

“And deny him the chance to make his grand romantic gesture?”

“It is very romantic isn’t it? Using the glass slipper to find me.”

“Right.”

“You don’t think it’s romantic?”

“Trying the slipper on every woman in the kingdom? You don’t have a very unusual shoe size, Miss Swan. You’ve worn _my_ boots with no problems. Mind you, perhaps he has a thing for feet.”

“Regina!”

“What? It’s not like he doesn’t know what you look like. There are artists who could paint a very good likeness! Show those around a few towns and someone is bound to recognise you.”

“I suppose.”

“I’m just saying, if it were me, I’d’ve found a more efficient way to get you back.”

….

“Yeah. You would.”

 

***

 

“He’s very handsome.”

She looked down at the portrait of yet another potential suitor.

“He’s very blonde.”

“What’s wrong with blondes?!”

…

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

 

***

 

“What is it, Talia?”

“Miss Swan’s wardrobe. It’s complete.”

“Oh. Good.”

“I could do a little more work on it? Maybe another week?”

….

“No. I’ll let her know.”

“You sure about that?”

“Her prince is waiting.”

 

***

 

“Rufus!”

“Your Majesty?”

“Tell me more about King Eric.”

“He is already married, your Majesty.”

“I know that! But he doesn’t have much of a standing army, does he? His kingdom would be easy pickings.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“And I’ve had a few thoughts about siege weapons.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“I can handle the mermaids - I know just the spell.”

“Yes, your Majesty. So, it’s to be an invasion then?”

“It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“Put my Generals on notice. Prepare the troops. Soon we will be at war.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

Her laughter followed him out of the room. It was an evil sound; it echoed with the darkness that swirled around her heart, the same darkness that she had been holding at bay for years now. But her defences were cracking.

 

***

  


There were more than a few teary eyes when Emma said goodbye to the palace staff. From scullery maid to Captain of the Royal Guard, the hallway was filled with people who had something good to say, or a fond memory of her; it seemed they all wanted to share these thoughts with her before she left them.

Regina waited outside the palace, standing very still. Rufus was in his customary place, three steps behind her. There was a large carriage, not quite as ornate as the pumpkin carriage, but worthy of royalty. It was drawn by six white horses, and the drivers and footmen were smartly dressed in deep red; none of them had ever been animals before. An honour guard of ten men waited behind the carriage, standing beside horses who were stamping impatiently to be off.

Emma finally finished running the gauntlet of goodbyes and made her way to Regina.

“Everything’s been packed and stowed,” Regina started speaking immediately. “We’ve included some gold, jewelry...things that you’d expect a princess to have.”

“Regina-”

“The men will stay with you for as long as you need.”

“Regina-”

“When you have no more need of them, dispose of them as you see fit.”

“Dispose?”

“Keep them, send them back. Whatever you think best.”

“Regina-”

“Rufus has identified inns where you can stop along the way. He assures me they are of an acceptable standard. If they are not…” Her voice petered out when she realised that she would not hear about the acceptability of the inns. She would not speak with Emma again.

“Regina-” But then she had nothing to say. So she put her arms around her instead.

“You should be going, Miss Swan.” Her voice was muffled by Emma’s shoulder. “You have a long trip ahead of you.”

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Then don’t.”

“I owe you everything.”

“No, you don’t. Your destiny was laid out long before you met me, Miss Swan. I was just a slight detour along the way.”

“Regina-”

“Go, marry your prince. And live happily.”

Emma stood back and stared at her, her eyes bright with tears. Regina’s face was impassive, but a tightness around her mouth showed the great effort it took her to appear that way.

Emma took Regina’s face in her hands, and even though the Queen’s eyes widened in shock, she did not protest when Emma lowered her head and kissed her. For a few moments they stood with only Emma’s lips moving against Regina’s, with only Emma’s hands on her face. Then Regina’s breath caught in her throat, and her hands came up to clutch at Emma’s shoulders, and she kissed her back.

They broke apart abruptly.

“I...I...didn’t know how else to say goodbye.”

“Emma.”

“I’d better go. As you said, it’s a long journey.”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“Any time, Miss Swan.”

 

As she watched the carriage drive off, Regina felt wetness on her cheek. She raised a hand to brush it away. She wasn’t crying. Her eyes remained dry. She wouldn’t allow tears to fall. So this...this was from Emma. These were Emma’s tears.

She glanced down at the evaporating dampness on her fingers.

Something inside her gave way and she crumpled to her knees.

Rufus was besides her in an instant, daring to put his arm around her shoulders.

“Shall I have her fetched back, your Majesty?”

She was gasping for breath as something twisted and seethed and _burned_ within her. But she shook her head.

“Your Majesty, surely-”

“What use is it?” Her voice was tortured, but she persisted. “She loves her prince. I won’t keep her from her true love.”

There was an exploding pain in her chest, radiating throughout her body until she had to clench her fingers in the dirt and grind her teeth to keep from wailing.

If Regina had been able to look into herself, she would have understood where this agony was coming from. It wasn’t just the pain of watching Emma leave. It was also the death throes of the darkness that had staked a claim to her long ago. It had seemed that Regina’s grief had weakened her, that the darkness would win. But doing this - letting Emma go even though it hurt her - was an unselfish sacrifice. An act of true love. And no darkness could survive when faced with true love.

Regina wasn’t aware of the battle she had been fighting for her soul, let alone that she had just won it. As Rufus helped her to feet, all she knew was that even though her heart felt like it had broken in two, she also felt lighter than she had in years.

“She deserves her happiness,” she said to Rufus, every word another killing blow to any lingering traces of darkness. “And I wish her a lifetime of it, wherever she finds it.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how I said in the notes at the start 'this may not always be lighthearted'? I wasn't kidding. :(
> 
> It will get better though!

It took three days and two nights for the carriage to reach Richard’s castle. She had a lot of time to think. Regina had called this her destiny, and she supposed that was accurate. What else could you call it when the world seemed to open paths that led you directly to one person who you could live happily ever after with? Her fairy godmother’s magic had allowed her to step back into a semblance of her old life, before she had been orphaned. For a few stolen hours she could imagine that it was her mother who dressed her in silks and lace, and her father who had handed her proudly up into the carriage so she could ride off to meet her prince. And wasn’t that the dream of every young woman in the kingdom? To meet a dashing young man, who wore a pair of trousers well, who smiled at you as though you were the most important thing in all the world, and who wanted nothing more than to dance the night away with you. And all this had fallen into Emma’s lap almost without her having to do anything, as though there were mysterious forces beyond her awareness moving her towards this fate. All the old stories spoke of ‘true love’, the invincible power that could overcome any adversity, break any curse, free any prisoner.

And she had been a prisoner, hadn’t she? A prisoner of circumstance and bad luck. And following the path that led eventually to Richard would break her free from the drudgery her life had become. She looked down at her hands, still roughened and worn from all the work she had done to keep her stepmother and stepsisters satisfied. Drizella and Anastasia’s hands had been soft and silky. But she remembered how it had felt to be held by Regina; her palms had been just as rough as Emma’s, her hands just as strong. Emma had worn gloves to all the balls. Richard had never touched her bare skin. But Regina was a queen, and if _her_ hands were calloused, then surely Richard would not find Emma’s unusual.

She was lucky. There had been hundreds of young women at the palace, all jostling to be recognised and to stand out in Richard’s notice. But it had been her who drew his attention. Night after night, he had returned to her side. She hadn’t really known how to talk to a prince, so she treated him like she did her mice friends; she spoke warmly and fondly and without any guile, never hiding her face behind her fan, or deferring to his opinion. She had enjoyed spending time with Richard. He was a much better dancer than Jaq the mouse, and a much wittier conversationalist than Gus. She looked forward to seeing her friends again, once she had reclaimed ownership of her family home. Although if Regina was any indication, it was probably best if she didn’t tell Richard about the animals. Regina had not reacted well when Emma had told her that Jaq and Gus had been her only friends. It had taken Regina a few moments to realise that Emma was talking about the ‘vermin’ she had seen in her pockets, and when she had made the connection Regina had grown very quiet, her brow settling into a frown that lasted all afternoon.

Richard had smiled a lot. She had liked that about him. It had been so different than Lady Tremaine, who always looked as though she had just bitten into a lemon. On the rare occasions Emma had seen her smile, it had been a cold affair; Lady Tremaine was happiest when she was enjoying another person’s pain. But Richard - Richard had smiled and laughed easily, as he had twirled her around the ballroom, as they had walked along the balconies, and sat in the rose garden. His lightheartedness had been like cool water to Emma, who had spent years burning in a desert of meanness and cruelty. Richard’s dark eyes were warm and friendly, his face open and honest, his conversation flitted from happy topic to entertaining story, and Emma soaked it all in, feeling herself come back to life. Even if Richard didn’t want to marry her - and despite all talk and thought of destiny, there was no guarantee he would - she would always be grateful to him for that.

  


***

 

It was late afternoon when they were stopped at the palace gates. A platoon of kingsmen had come riding up, seen the foreign soldiers, and had hollered for them to halt. Emma could hear the head of her honour guard, a captain named Duncan, talking to the men.

“The lady is under our protection. We are under strict orders to deliver her safely to Prince Richard. None other.”

“You stand at the gates of Richard’s palace. If you think we will let you enter on your word alone, you have overestimated your good fortune!”

“I fear you far less than I do my queen.”

“And where is your queen now, Captain? Will her orders save you from my sword? Dismount and let us inspect the carriage!”

“We will not yield!”

Emma heard weapons being unsheathed. She opened the carriage window. The men stiffened at her sudden appearance. Duncan guided his horse to stand beside the window.

“My apologies, my lady, but-”

“You!” The man who cried out wore the uniform of a captain of Richard’s royal guard. “The mysterious princess!”

Then suddenly Richard himself was there, pushing forward from amongst the throng of his men.

“It _is_ you! Isn’t it?”

Emma waved at him. “I know it’s me. But I’m not sure who you think I am.”

“The girl I danced with. Oh please tell me it is you. I already worry those nights were nothing more than a dream.”

Emma laughed. “I don’t think I was dreaming.”

“It is you! It is!” Richard shouted gleefully.

His captain cleared his throat meaningfully. “There is _protocol_ , Sire. Every other woman in the kingdom has followed it.”

“Oh. Oh, yes. Of course.” He dismounted and approached the carriage on foot. “Please forgive me, my dear. If you would be so kind as to ask your men not to run me through. There is a small matter of a glass slipper?”

Emma laughed again. She tried to open the carriage door, and her footmen leapt to the ground and hurried to pull down the stairs and help her climb out.

The captain had come to stand besides Richard. He had a box in one hand and a folded stool and cushion in the other. He set the stool down, the cushion on the ground before it, and handed Richard the box. Richard took Emma’s hand and led her to the stool.

She sat, he knelt on the cushion, pulled the sparkling glass slipper from the box, and laughed triumphantly when it slid easily onto her foot.

Captain Duncan came forward now, carefully carrying a plain wooden box; the only decoration was a stamp of Regina’s crest on the lid. From the box he took the second glass slipper, the one Emma had in her pocket the night Regina had found her in the road and swept her away from Lady Tremaine.

Richard took it from him, placed it on Emma’s other foot, then jumped to his feet and clapped his hands in glee. His men cheered, flinging their plumed hats into the air and rattling their swords in their scabbards.

 

***

 

Richard wasted no time in escorting her into the palace to meet his mother and father. The King was a white-haired, gruffly-spoken man, with piercing eyes that narrowed when Richard introduced her as the ‘mysterious princess’ who had disappeared after the ball. She curtsied deeply. Richard’s mother made clucking comments about her beauty and grace, and asked after her comfort after her journey, and just how far had she travelled? Richard had been looking for her for so long.

Emma squared off her shoulders and said, “I must be honest, your Majesties. I am no princess.”

“Really,” the King said in an almost-bored voice.

Emma shook her head. “I am one of your subjects, your Majesty. My father was a merchant farmer, Nathan Swan. My mother died when I was very young. My family estate is not far from here-”

“A farmer’s daughter?”

“Yes, your Majesty. I have no great dowry. Just an old house and some fertile lands, that have sadly been neglected for some time now.”

“No great dowry you say. Yet you come to us in a fine carriage drawn by finer horses. And your trunks are filled with treasures.”

“They are?” Emma asked, the surprise clear in her voice. “I haven’t really unpacked them yet.”

“Oh, they’ve been unpacked for you, my dear,” the queen said gently, but there was iron at the core of her voice. “You have quite a collection of fine gems. And rather a lot of gold. You weren’t aware of this?”

“She said she’d...but I never looked.”

“Who are you talking about, my dear?”

“My...benefactor. Queen Regina of Waldark.”

“The sorceress queen?!”

“She is not a sorceress!” Her eyes flashed angrily.

The king leaned forward, “You keep very problematic company, child. What has Regina planned? Why has she sent you here?”

Emma shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing, I swear.”

Richard finally spoke up. “Father, please. It is obvious that Miss Swan is telling the truth. I have chosen her. Let us have no more talk of sorceresses and conspiracy.”

The king sighed and leaned tiredly back in his chair. “Very well, Richard. Perhaps you are right. She certainly is beautiful. And spirited.” He smiled briefly at Emma.

“We should make an announcement soon, my dear,” the queen said, patting her husband’s hand worriedly.

He glanced at her. “You are right, my dear. As always.”

He got to his feet. It took him some effort. “Make the arrangements.”

Emma wasn’t sure to whom he was speaking, but several aides scurried off. She glanced at Richard. “What announcement?” she whispered.

Richard clasped his hand to his mouth and groaned. “Father! Wait! You can’t announce it yet. I’ve not even asked her!”

“The slipper fit, didn’t it?” the king asked impatiently. “Wasn’t that the agreement? ‘Whosoever the slipper fit, that will be Prince Richard’s bride’?”

“If she says yes, Father!”

“Fine.” the king huffed an exasperated breath. “Hurry up and ask her.”

Richard went to one knee, taking Emma’s hand in his own. “Miss Swan - wait. Do you have a first name?”

“Emma.”

“Thank you. Emma Swan, will you do me the honour of being my wife. And my future queen?”

Emma’s eyes widened and surprised laughter bubbled out of her. Richard looked briefly worried, so she hastened to say. “Yes? I mean...I believe we are destined to marry.”

“And who are we to defy destiny?”

  


***

 

“What would you like for a wedding present, my dear?” Richard asked her one morning over breakfast.

Even with the entire palace staff working night and day, it had still taken two weeks to organise and prepare everything necessary for a royal wedding. Richard had spent much of the time hunting and carousing with his friends. The queen had assured her this was normal. He would be a husband soon, and a king, and if the fates were generous, a father many times over. It was understandable that he would take some time to enjoy himself first. Emma’s preparation for married life appeared to be learning how to needlepoint with the queen.

But now their marriage ceremony was only a few days away. And Richard had made a rare appearance at her breakfast table. He skewered a large sausage on the end of his knife and looked at her curiously. “Anything at all you like. A necklace perhaps? Or a large diamond?”

Emma shook her head. She remembered what Regina had said to her, and so she said, “I would like my family home back.”

“What do you mean, my dear? Back from where?”

“After my mother died, my father re-married. My stepmother, Lady Tremaine, she lives in the house now. I would very much like it back.”

“But you have the entire palace to live in.”

“I know, Richard. But this house, it is special to me. It was where I was born. And my mother is buried there. And-”

“Wait! Lady Tremaine! Tall, grey hair, looks like she’s always smelling something bad?”

“That sounds like her.”

“Two daughters. Pretty, but silly?”

“Anastasia and Drizella. My stepsisters.”

“Hah. They were amongst the most dedicated of the slipper triers.”

“Slipper triers?”

“You know - finding who the glass slipper belonged to. They were very persistent. One of them cut off her heel to make it fit!”

Emma gasped. “No.”

“Oh yes. Not as bad as the other. She took off an entire toe!” He laughed, and Emma stared at him.

“That’s horrible,” she said.

He shrugged. “A lot of women were very eager to be my wife.”

“Are they alright?”

“Hmm? I don’t know. I suppose. Not very necessary parts I’d think, a heel and toe.”

Emma pushed her plate away from her.

“So, wedding present - the house? I’ll have some bailiffs sent round. They’ll get the women out, and I’ll sign the house back over to you.”

“No, Richard. That’s their home too. Can’t we give them somewhere else to live?”

“Why would you want to do that? From what Mother’s said, they weren’t very nice to you.”

“No. They weren’t. But that’s no reason to treat them so horribly.”

Now it was Richard’s turn to stare at her. “You are _entirely_ too kind, my dear.”

Emma stared at her hands. Regina had said much the same thing once. But she hadn’t sounded like this - like she was pointing out a flaw in Emma’s character.

“Perhaps the house can wait,” Emma whispered.

Richard nodded. “Whatever makes you happy my dear. So, a necklace then? I was thinking, some emeralds. Bring out your eyes.”

Emma started to nod, then turned the movement into a shake of her head. “No. Richard, could I have a … a … pet?”

“A pet?”

“Yes,” her voice grew more confident. “A dog.”

“I have fifty hunting dogs! You are welcome to borrow one of them whenever you like.”

“Not a hunting dog, Richard. One just for me. One I can keep with me when you’re off with your friends.”

He shrugged. “Of course, my dear. As I said, whatever makes you happy.” And he reached across the table and kissed her soundly.

 

Richard wasn’t at breakfast the next morning. But there was a large basket on his side of the table. Emma peeped in and found a sleeping puppy. He had a tiny body and massive paws, and his fur looked like a grey mop had exploded, and his ears flopped half-way over his face, and when he woke, he looked up at her with big brown eyes, a pink tongue lolling out of his mouth to slobber all over her hand; Emma fell instantly in love.

She picked him up and hugged him. He wiggled closer and tried to bark, making a ridiculous whuffing noise instead. Which is how he earned his name.

“Gruff,” she whispered into his soft fur, and he licked her chin.

 

***

 

The wedding went off without a hitch. The celebration that followed went on for three days. Their honeymoon lasted a week. Richard was attentive and kind, and they were rarely apart. Two days after they returned to the palace, the king fell gravely ill.

He lingered for ten days. The queen never left his side, but he grew progressively weaker, until finally one grey morning, a grim-faced aide came knocking on their bedroom door. Richard, who had taken to sleeping in a chair by the window, answered the knock.

The aide bowed and said “Your Majesty.”

And Richard had wept.

 

***

 

The funeral was solemn, and small. Just family and the dead king’s closest aides attended. But beyond the palace walls, the kingdom mourned; black drapes in all the windows, no music played in the taverns and inns, women cried in the streets as they went about their daily chores, and sad-eyed men stood on the corners of streets and in the squares and muttered amongst themselves.

When the funeral was over, Richard’s mother announced that she could not bear to stay in the palace. There were too many memories for her. So she left, journeying back to her homeland across the sea. She promised to return when her heart had healed. Perhaps at the birth of her first grandchild.

And so in a few short days, Richard found himself having to leave the carefree life of a prince behind him. He was now the King, and his people looked to him for guidance.

 

***

 

Emma tried. She really did. She studied the protocol books, and she planned dinners and she learned the names of visiting dignitaries and how to make polite conversation about nothing. She sat for half the day in cold rooms with other women and sewed and talked and sewed some more. When she saw Richard looking particularly worried or frustrated, she tried to speak to him about what was bothering him, but he would sigh and say “You won’t understand, my dear.” Or “This is for the king to worry about, not you.”

She tried for over a year.

Richard’s mother never returned, because there were no grandchildren to call her back.

Richard’s smile dimmed, and he talked and joked less and less with her. Whenever she tried to reach out to him, she was rebuffed. His gentleness disappeared into the cold face of a ruler; he looked more like his father every day, with the same calculating piercing look in his eye.

Emma’s only happiness came from Gruff. He had grown into a rambunctious dog whose antics kept her and her ladies in waiting entertained. But Richard could not understand what she saw in a playful dog who would not obey. Much better if he learned how to run with the hunt. She refused to let Richard take him. They fought for days about it, and finally he stopped speaking to her entirely.

Finally she made a decision. Richard generally ate breakfast alone, the one time of day when he could have a moment’s peace. Emma was the only person who could enter the room while he ate, because even now, he still treated her with an impersonal kindness.

“Richard?”

He looked up at her.

“I don’t think I’m in love with you any more.”

“And?”

“We’re not happy, are we?”

“Perhaps if you did your duty and gave me an heir.”

“It’s not like we haven’t tried, Richard.”

“What is the point of this conversation, Emma?”

“I would like to end this.”

“End what?”

“This marriage.”

He laughed. “You can’t be serious. You are my wife.”

“But we aren’t _happy_ Richard.”

“No one expects to be happy in their marriage!”

“I do! My parents were!”

“And how long did that last?”

“Oh.” He had never been so deliberately cruel to her before. She took a deep breath and tried again. “Please, Richard. There is nothing for either of us here. Let me go.”

He got forcefully to his feet, the chair skidding back almost to the wall as he pushed away from the table.

“Never,” he ground out. “You are _my_ wife. And you will be until _I_ am finished with you.”


	4. Chapter 4

Even though she was unaware it had happened, the sudden removal of the grip of darkness left Regina unsettled. It was as though she had been in a cramped space, crushed against the wall. But then that wall disappeared leaving her to fall into a room filled with sunlight. Or as if she had been picking her way along a rough path when the ground dissolved beneath her feet leaving her floating above an expansive sun-dappled landscape. Possibilities she had never considered opened before her. But she could see herself more clearly with this new awareness, and she did not always like what the light revealed.

Rufus couldn’t understand exactly what ailed his queen. She had left lovers before (not that Emma Swan was her lover. He was fairly sure about that.), but she had never reacted like this. She sat in her throne room, the intimidating one, and snarled at anyone who came too near. She brooded and was moody and she shouted at hapless palace staff who were only trying to bring her food and drink. She’d pace half the night away before falling into a fitful sleep. She did not wake rested.

When he brought her the news of Prince Richard’s engagement to a commoner, Rufus had expected tears or cold anger. Instead Regina had sighed.

“Well, that’s that I suppose.”

“Your Majesty?”

“Destiny wins again.”

“It has been my experience that it is easy to call something ‘destiny’, your Majesty.”

Regina smiled. “A commoner, a girl who lived under the most horrible conditions and yet grew to be kind and generous, and forgiving - who else could she marry but a prince?”

“I suppose that does have a certain elegant justice about it.”

“Indeed.” Regina sighed again. “What do you think destiny says about redemption, Rufus?”

“Ma’am?”

“What if the girl did not choose to be kind and forgiving. What if she chose to be...cruel and vindictive instead? Would destiny smile on her if she chose to be different in the end?”

“If she chose kindness?”

Regina shrugged, “If she chose to try.”

“I don’t know what destiny would say, Ma’am. But I would call her brave. And I would be proud to help her.”

 

***

 

It wasn’t always easy. Cheerful friendliness came easily to Emma, and because she tended to assume there was good in everyone, that is what she generally found. Regina however had walked closely with the dark, and even though she was free of it now, she hadn’t yet learned to let go of the behaviours and beliefs she had developed over the years. Rufus was invaluable to her at this time. When she’d order a flogging, or the burning of fields of crops because a villager had disrespected her, he would clear his throat with great fanfare and subtly shake his head. Regina would glare at him, her brows knitting together and her fists clenching with white-knuckled intensity. But Rufus would stare back at her serenely, and she’d huff and order a less drastic punishment. Over time the intensity of the punishments decreased, until there came a day when the head of the royal dungeons couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to break a sweat torturing anyone.

And with the decrease in her cruelty came a change in how Regina governed. She took to listening to her subjects, instead of just telling them what she wanted. She began to show concern for their wellbeing and happiness. It started with just her palace staff - making sure that they had enough to eat, and that no one had to work without sleep to fulfill her wishes. But then slowly her concern spread wider, to the people who lived just beyond the walls of the castle, to the people who lived in the forest a day’s ride from her palace, to the people who lived in the mountains, until soon there wasn’t a place in all her realm that she did not think of, and care for. She took to traveling through her lands; ruling from the road, Rufus called it.

At first the people were afraid when she visited the hamlets and towns, as stories of her brutal ways were well known throughout the land. But Regina was a changed woman, and they could see this in her behaviour. She listened to complaints, and she tried to do something to help.  Wherever she went, she left new sheriffs, replacing the cruel and corrupt remnants of her old regime with men and women who were fair and trustworthy.

And so came a day when Regina’s people no longer thought of her as an evil Queen, they no longer wished that their King hadn’t died heirless, leaving the throne to his young wife. They were coming to trust their ruler, but her sadness was obvious to anyone who looked. Her people wished she were less stern and flinty, but this wasn’t because they feared her anymore, but because they hoped that she could find a reason to smile.

 

***

 

After several months on the road, Regina returned to her palace satisfied that she had made good changes to the way her realm was run. They were already seeing the impact of the new way of doing things - tax revenue was actually up for the first time in years, and the granaries and coffers were filled to overflowing. It was going to be a good year. She was in her throne room - the intimidating one again, because while the room itself was uncomfortable, the throne was a joy to sit in. There were reams of paper spread out before her on a makeshift table, and she was making copious notes for Rufus to follow up on later. There was need to revisit the terms of some of their trading agreements with other kingdoms, and so she was reading through agreements that stretched back to when Leopold was still a prince. It seemed that her father-in-law had had the sense of a man who had been thrown from his horse and landed on his head once too often. There were glaring irregularities throughout the agreements, and it was taking Regina longer than it should have to sift through the murk and come to the truth. She was frowning and biting down on the end of her reed pen when she heard an excited gurgling noise. She looked up.

There was a small child running through the throne room.

She wore a dark red dress, heavy with mud around the hem. Her boots were muddy too. Regina could see the track marks she’d left across the shiny marble floor. Her hair was yellow, twisted into curls that bounced as she ran along. Her big brown eyes had fixed directly on Regina and she made her way rapidly towards the throne, her arms wide and a huge smile upon her face.

Regina dropped her pen and hurried towards the child, reaching her before she could attempt to climb the stairs that led up to the throne. She swept her up into the air, and the child giggled. “Again! Again!” she cried out.

Regina stared into her face, and started to laugh.

“Where did you come from?”

“Again! Again!”

Regina twirled around, the girl held securely to her chest; the child giggled. “Again!”

“What is your name, sweet one?”

“Oh, your Majesty! I am _so_ sorry!” Rufus had arrived in a panting rush. “She is my daughter. She just ran away from us, and I’ve been looking everywhere-”

“No harm done, Rufus.” Regina handed his daughter back to him. “I got to her before she could fall and hurt herself.”

She watched as the child flung her arms around her father’s neck, laughing.

“She’s missed me. She gets very excited when she’s happy.”

“Yes. I see that.”

“I’ll just be going then. Again, I am so sorry.”

“I didn’t know you had a child.”

“I have two, your Majesty.”

“Two?”

“My son - he’s just two months old. Born while we were away. I was just meeting him. I’m afraid she got a bit lost in the shuffle, and the next thing we knew, she had dashed off.”

“I am sorry Rufus. I didn’t realise I had kept you from the birth of your son.”

She watched the look on Rufus’s face shift - from embarrassment to surprise and then finally to a careful blankness. “I serve at your pleasure, Ma’am.”

Regina sighed. “Go, be with your family.”

“Thank you Ma’am.”

She went back to her papers, but her mind kept returning to the incident with Rufus and his daughter. Rufus had children! She would have to look for another aide, someone who could assist Rufus, and perhaps take his place when they had to travel away from the palace for a long time. It wasn’t fair to his wife or his children to keep him away for too long. Rufus may say he served at her pleasure, but surely his family was more important to him than the realm. It was different for Regina. She had to care for the realm before anything else. That was her duty, and she had been remiss in it for so long, that she had a lot to make up for now.

 

***

 

When, several days later, she found herself still thinking about Rufus’s family, Regina realised that something else had changed within her. She summoned him.

“I have been thinking.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“I will not live forever.”

“...are you unwell, Ma’am?!”

“No, no. Nothing like that. But it is the truth - someday I will die.”

“Ma’am.”

“I need an heir.”

“Ma’am?”

“When I die, I need to leave the throne to someone.”

“Oh. Yes, Ma’am.”

Regina sighed. “That’s not the entire truth, Rufus. Ever since I met your daughter, I can’t stop thinking about...wanting one...of my own.”

“A child, Ma’am?”

“Yes. I know it is a foolish notion. My mother said I should have children as early as possible, but Leopold and I never…. And I just stopped wanting it. Or I thought I had.”

“Ma’am, perhaps I should fetch Talia, she could talk with you about-”

“I don’t need to talk about it, Rufus. I want a child.”

“Yes, Ma’am. So, we’re looking for suitable princes-”

“Why would I want a prince? I don’t want to _marry_.”

“Yes, Ma’am. A suitable concubine then? Someone of noble birth, but not-” Regina’s glare withered the words in his throat.

“Do I need a concubine or a husband to have a child?”

Rufus gulped. “That’s usually how these things go, Ma’am?”

“Not for me.”

She strode over to a table where she had laid out all the implements she would need. There was a map of her realm resting in a large wooden bowl of water. A sharp knife lay close to hand. She would use an ancient spell, one she had found in an old book, with print so faded she’d had to pour over it for hours with bright light and magnifying glasses before she could transcribe the spells. The notes above this one had only said, ‘A spell to find the child of your heart’. It could have referred to any number of things. But she would cast it now in the hope that it would lead her in the right direction.

“Watch closely,” Regina told him.

She held her left hand over the water, picked up the knife in her right, and cut a wide gash across her palm. Rufus gasped and started forward, but she waved him away. Regina chanted as her blood dripped steadily. It did not diffuse into the water; instead it coagulated and formed up into a thick, red ball. Regina’s chanting changed, the words growing higher and harsher. She began to sway from side to side, her body trembling. Sweat sprang out on her face and her mouth trembled as she chanted. The ball of blood began to meander lazily back and forth, following a path that Rufus couldn’t explain. There was nothing else moving in the bowl - no wind blew on it, and it stood firm on the table. Yet the blood floated through the water. Then it came to a halt, and Regina’s chanting grew louder, a pleading note entering her voice.

A rush of purple smoke rose from the water, thinning and lightening in colour until Rufus could make out a face in the swirls. A woman’s face, older and worn. She was looking down at something she held in her arms. Regina grabbed the knife and stabbed it into the bowl, through the blood, pinning it into the map. The chanting stopped, and the blood finally dissipated into the water, turning it a faint pink colour. The knife stood where Regina had stabbed it.

She turned to Rufus. Her voice was harsh when she spoke.

“Go there,” she pointed to the place on the map where the knifepoint had stuck. “Bring her to me. And the child.”

Rufus looked disapproving. “Your Majesty-”

“Rufus, bring me my son!”

 

***

 

She paced the floor; waiting had never been her strong point, and she was wild with impatience now. Her serving women stood around her, not sure how they could ease their queen’s discomfort. She knew that Rufus was close; she’d had a report from the guards at the gate when they spotted the small group riding towards the castle. She could have magicked herself to them, or she could have ridden out to them, but she wanted the solidity of the castle walls around her when she met him for the first time.

She could hear Rufus now, striding purposefully down the hallway outside her personal throne room. She waved the serving women away. She wasn’t sure how she would react, and she wanted no other witnesses in case she shamed herself. She stood alone, her back stiff and straight, her hands clenched together. Rufus opened the door and allowed a woman to precede him.

She looked old, but Regina could see that what seemed like age was really the signs of a hard life lived outdoors. Her clothing was threadbare, and the skin of her hands and face was weather-worn. The woman carried a bundle cradled in her arms. Regina took a half-step forward and stopped.

“Your Majesty, this is the woman you sent me to find. Catia. She and her husband are wood cutters.”

The woman raised a hand and waved, “Hello, lass.”

“She is not a ‘lass’! She is your Queen!” Rufus said, exasperated. “I have already explained this.”

“The boy - he is yours?” Regina asked.

“No, lass.” Regina waved off Rufus before he could interject again. Catia continued. “I have four of my own. This wee one, we found him, abandoned under the trees.”

“His parents?”

“Gone. I’d say eaten by bears by the looks of it.”

The colour drained from Regina’s face, and Catia shrugged. “It’s the way of the world, isn’t it lass? Go to the forest unprepared, the bears are likely to get you.”

“And he...the baby, was he hurt?”

“No. He is strong, and lucky with it. We heard him crying, that’s how we found him. Not sure just how long he’d lain there. But he hung on, didn’t you lad?” She rocked the baby gently.

Regina caught herself reaching out, and pulled her arms back to her sides.

“He must have other family?”

“Not that we could tell, lass. We did ask around, but no one seems to know his people. They weren’t from around here.”

Regina looked at Rufus with an almost pleading look in her eyes. She caught the faintest nod, and smiled broadly. She could trust that Rufus would have looked harder than a woodcutter. If he hadn’t found anything, then perhaps the spell had worked true, and this baby really could belong to her. She looked at Catia again. Her face was wreathed in smiles when she looked at the baby. Regina sighed.

“You are a good woman, to take this child in. It must be difficult, with four of your own.”

“Oh, we manage lass, never you fear.”

Regina nodded, and began to say to Rufus that he should escort the woman back to her home, because she would not take a child from a woman who cared for him this much. She would make sure that the family received a stipend of course, but this child would not be hers.

But Catia was still speaking. “It is a shame we can’t keep him. I was taking him to the friars up at the monastery. You know the ones - they make a decent bottle of wine.”

“You’re giving him away?”

“We can’t keep him, lass. The friars, they take in orphans. Seems to be for the best.”

“But, if I give you enough gold to care for his-”

“It’s not the gold, lass. Our four, they were born to this life. They love the forest. But this little one - it wouldn’t be fair to him. He should have a better chance, we think. A chance to choose something different. The forest’s not going anywhere. He can come back if he wants.”

In a small, tentative, voice Regina asked, “Would you give him to me? Instead of the friars.”

She felt Catia’s appraising glance bore into her. “Why d’you want this child, lass?”

“I looked for him, and I found him.” Regina whispered. Her voice grew firmer, “I don’t know how to explain it, Catia. He called to me. He is mine. I know he is.”

“And you’ll raise him to be a good man?”

Regina could only nod.

“I see good in you, lass.” Catia said. She stepped forward. Regina saw Rufus put one hand on his sword, but he let the woman approach the queen. “Here.” She held out the bundle she carried, and Regina took it from her as though she were holding the most delicate of creatures.

He was tiny, barely a weight in her arms. He had wriggled free of some of his coverings, and one naked foot had kicked out. It had five toes, and a wrinkled sole, and the light glowed pinkly through his skin. She dared to look at his face, and she felt her heart flutter. A mop of dark hair had flopped over his forehead, and she longed to brush it back. His eyes were closed tightly in sleep, and he was making a strange movement with his mouth, as though he were trying to whistle and blow bubbles at the same time. A tiny fist had curled over one corner of his swaddling; he had a strong grip. This was good. He could hold a sword then.

She heard a satisfied hum, looked up into Catia’s approving face, looked beyond her at Rufus who had tears in his eyes. She blinked back tears of her own. She could feel her face crease and fold into an unaccustomed expression; halfway between laughter and tears and a deep joy.

Catia nodded. “Well then, if that’s all sorted, I’ll be on my way home.”

Regina cast a panicked look at Rufus. “I’ll take care of it, your Majesty.”

“You will want for nothing,” Regina said hoarsely. “Nothing. Rufus. See to it.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“So, we could ask for a new axe?” Catia asked conversationally as they walked through the doors.

Regina did not know how long she stood waiting until Rufus returned. It was long enough for her to take a thorough inventory; two hands, two feet, a tiny pink tongue, ears that seemed far too delicate for any sort of loud noise, so she would be sure to send out a decree that everyone should tiptoe and whisper around him. And then he’d opened his eyes, and they were dark brown and thoughtful, so like her own that she had almost wept with the shock of it. He had seemed to look at her with recognition, which couldn’t possibly be true, but it was a story she would tell her heart; that he knew her as soon as he saw her.

Rufus found her there, rocking the baby gently as she hummed at him.

“Ma’am?”

“Assemble the Council, Rufus. I want to know what I need to do to make him my son.”

His voice thick and gruff with emotion, Rufus said, “That will be my very great pleasure, Ma’am.”

  


She named him Henry, for her father; the first man she had ever loved. And she loved her son as fiercely as she had ever loved anything. The Council had signed and passed the decrees. Henry was named her son, with all the rights and entitlements due to any of her natural-born offspring. It wouldn’t have changed anything if they had not passed the decree. Regina would have had them all cut down had they refused and then appointed a new, wiser, Council. But the Councillors had looked at their Queen, looked at the child she carried proudly, the child who looked back at them with eyes the mirror of the Queen’s, and they had declared him her heir with no objections or restraints.

And her life changed again. Wet nurses and strange contraptions that allowed her to feed him; crying in the pre-dawn hours that brought the Queen from her bed to the crib, her eyes heavy with sleep; and though she was exhausted, her days started and ended with a feeling of happiness and hope that warmed her even through the tiredness.

Regina did much of the work of taking care of Henry herself, even though there was always a woman there to help. In fact, there were so many people who stood ready to help that there were times that Regina felt as though Henry belonged to the entire castle. And perhaps in some way, he did. He was their future King after all. She started taking him with her to many of her engagements. Swaddled to his mother’s chest, Prince Henry attended Council meetings, negotiations with foreign powers, and meetings with lesser kings and princes. They all stared at Regina as though the sorceress queen had finally gone insane, driven mad by her lust for power and conquest. But then she started talking, and they realised that nothing had changed. Regina was still cunning and ruthless, but instead of destroying you with her army, she now relied solely on her, no less effective, words. Motherhood had not softened Regina. On the contrary, it had caused her to focus much more fiercely on the defence and development of her realm. The rulers who found themselves across the table from her did not think it much of  an improvement.

 

***

  


One slow morning, when there were no pressing matters of state to attend to, she took Henry to the palace gardens. It was among her favourite things to do with him. He was growing so quickly, and so strong. He was standing now, under his own power, although he still needed to hold on to something for balance. Her women assured her that he would be walking soon.  

The serving women spread out blankets on the ground, covered them with Henry’s favourite toys, and then left the queen and the prince to play. When she was with Henry, Regina was not the stern, regal queen; she smiled and laughed, her face and voice softened, and her hands were rarely still as she smoothed Henry’s hair, or stroked his hands, or played with his feet. Her touch soothed him, and it was not uncommon to find Regina sitting in a quiet corner of the castle, Henry curled up in her lap, his ear pressed to her heartbeat while she read to him.

This was how they were sitting now, when Rufus came out into the garden.

He stopped a few steps away from them, cleared his throat and waited deferentially for Regina to notice him. She looked up, her eyebrow arched questioningly. It was unusual for anyone to interrupt her when she was spending time alone with Henry. She was already preparing herself to face a crisis.

“My apologies, Ma’am. You have a visitor.”

That was when she noticed her. Standing at the edge of the gardens, where the walkway met the grass, twisting her hands into knots as she looked anxiously towards Regina.

“Emma.”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to Oparu for being the awesomest beta reader (and putting up with my mean ways)

“Hello, Regina.” Emma’s voice was shy, her eyes seemingly unable to meet and hold Regina’s gaze for very long.

And Regina was gazing at her, taking in every detail from the travel-worn clothes, to the bruises of tiredness under Emma’s eyes, to the way the light could still turn her hair to liquid sunshine. Regina found she could not speak. All she could do was stand in her garden, her son on her hip, and look at the woman who had reappeared without warning into her life.

“You found a prince then?” Emma asked.

Regina glanced down at her son and finally found her voice. “Yes. This is Henry.”

Emma reached out tentatively to touch Henry’s hand, stroking it gently. “Hello Henry, I’m Emma.”

He stared at her with curiosity, holding firmly to Regina’s collar for safety while he examined this stranger. Finally he smiled, revealing three white stubs of teeth. Emma’s smile broadened in response, making the corners of her eyes crinkle.

“He’s beautiful, Regina.”

“Thank you.” She gave Henry to one of the serving women who were standing nearby. The women hurried off with him, headed towards the castle. Emma turned to watch them leave.

“What’s his father like?”

“I wouldn’t know. Other than that he wasn’t a very well prepared woodsman.”

Emma frowned in confusion, and Regina hastened to add, “If you’re assuming I married to have him, you’re wrong.”

“Oh?”

“He was orphaned. I adopted him.”

“Ah. No husband then?”

“No.”

Emma smiled ruefully, and now it was Regina’s turn to look confused. The initial surprise of seeing her after over a year of absence was wearing off, and Regina could start thinking beyond the fact that Emma Swan was standing before her. Now she could start to wonder.

“Not that it’s unpleasant to see you again, Emma. But what are you doing here?”

“I left. I left him.”

“Left whom - Richard?”

“Yes. I...escaped.”

“Escaped?” Regina realised she was merely repeating the words Emma said, in befuddled tones, but she couldn’t help herself. “Did he- did he _hurt_ you?” Her voice was urgent.

“No. No.” She shook her head rapidly. “He wouldn’t let me go. I asked but he wouldn’t listen. So I left.”

“And you came here. On your own?”

“No. The men you sent with me when…. Why are interrogating me like this Regina?”

Regina could hear the hurt in her voice, and she hastened to try to reassure her. She let herself touch Emma then, placing a careful hand on her arm.

“I’m not...I’m sorry, Emma...I’m trying to work out what happened. I need to know you’re okay.”

“He scared me. That’s all. I’m sorry Regina, I didn’t know where else to go.” Her voice was small and forlorn, the voice of a person anticipating a reprimand.

Regina grabbed hold of Emma’s hands. “You did the right thing,” she assured her. “You did the right thing coming here.” She nodded curtly at Rufus, who bowed briefly and hurried away. “Let’s get you inside, get you comfortable.”

Regina held Emma’s hand as they walked towards the castle. She kept stealing glances at her, making grim note of all the changes. Her face seemed set into permanent worry lines and her eyes were guarded. The easy smile that Regina had enjoyed so much was noticeably absent. An uncomfortable silence had fallen between them and she felt the strain of uncertainty. Emma was different, cautious and protective of herself as she had not been even when she had lived under her stepmother’s controlling rule. Regina didn’t know how to break through the wall just yet, so she rubbed her thumb over the back of Emma’s hand instead, hoping the physical contact would be enough to show her support and concern.

There was a flurry of activity ahead as Rufus barked orders sending castle staff dashing off to do his bidding. In the midst of all the bustle, a group of soldiers stood milling about. They wore the uniform of the Royal Guard but it was an outdated design, one intended to be intimidating, in deep black, with heavy leather, bristling with weaponry. Regina remembered how pleased she’d been with it when Talia had first created it. But now, now it reminded her of a darker time. She had watched men dressed like this ride away behind Emma’s carriage, when she had sent her to her true love. But now they were all back, and things were different. Now the Royal Guard wore pale blues and greens, and each man only carried a single sword, and people did not turn away from them in fear when they saw them coming. These men, these relics out of time, stood in the middle of the castle driveway, staring around them in apparent surprise. A few people had seemed to recognise them however, and as Regina and Emma drew closer, Regina saw men and women approach them. Their hands were shaken, they were embraced, someone thought to bring them mugs of ale. Seeing this, observing how the returned soldiers slowly let their guard down and responded warmly, gave Regina some hope. She linked her arm with Emma’s and tilted her head towards her, a gentle pleasantry on her lips. But her words were lost in the sound of a deep, resonating bark, that shook the very air around them. Loud and incessant, it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She dropped Emma’s arm and turned to face the threat, her hands already raised and curled to call forth her magic.

“Regina, wait!” Emma cried urgently.

Regina could see what was causing the ruckus. A dog, except she had never seen a dog whose head came chest-high to a tall man. And it took two tall men to hold him back by his chain, or at least, to retard his forward movement a little. Because the creature was making a mad dash towards them, dragging two desperate soldiers in his wake despite their best efforts to dig their heels in and hold him back.

“Get behind me, Miss Swan,” Regina shouted. “Let’s see how he likes a fireball to the face.”

“Regina, please!” She was clutching at her shoulders. “That’s Gruff! He’s mine! He’s not dangerous!”

“Yours?” Her hands were still raised, but she had stilled her magic.

“He’s really sweet.”

Regina eyed the giant creature, his powerful legs and sharp claws were digging up the lawn as he kept pulling forward against the weight of two men. “Sweet?”

“He’s gentle, really. He’s just...not very good at listening. I did tell him to stay, but I think he missed me.”

“I can see that,” Regina remarked drily.

Unable to take the strain any longer, the chain attached to the dog’s collar snapped, releasing a cannonball of shaggy grey fur and lanky legs and a joyous baying bark, aimed directly at Regina and Emma.

Emma cried, “No, no, no!” She waved her arms at Gruff, but he seemed to take that as encouragement and only bounded faster towards her. She tensed her body, preparing herself to receive the weight of him. It was a good thing they stood on grass. It would hurt less when she hit the ground.

Then Regina stepped forward to stand between her and Gruff. She raised an imperious finger and said “Stop.”

Emma would never forget what happened next. Her giant gamboling Gruff looked at Regina, raised his head and sniffed as though he’d caught her scent, and suddenly seemed to be trying to run in reverse. His back legs skittered over the grass as he tried to find purchase and slow his forward momentum. She didn’t think he’d be able to do it, but somehow he found the strength to stop himself in time, and even though he slid the last few feet on his rear end, he came to a halt before crashing into Regina.

He stared at her, his tail thumping uncertainly on the ground, as he waited for further instruction.

Regina reached up to pat his head twice, and said, “Good dog. Stay.”

Gruff’s face broke out into a big canine grin, and he panted happily. He looked at Emma and whined, but he didn’t move. She came over and patted him too, scratching absentmindedly behind his ears as she stared at Regina.

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Get him to listen!”

“I just told him what I wanted him to do.”

“He doesn’t do that for anyone else!”

Regina shrugged. “They have to know you mean it.”

Emma started to laugh. At first it was a quiet sound, a restrained chuckle, but it grew and deepened, until she was almost having to hang on to Gruff to stay upright as her laughter shook through her. When she had finally stopped, although she was still breathless, she reached out for Regina and hugged her, her arms tight around her shoulders and her face buried in dark hair.

“I have missed you,” she whispered, “So much.”

Regina had stiffened at the first contact of Emma’s body against her own, but then she relaxed, the tension that had built up during their silent walk dissolving away under Emma’s touch. She put her arms around Emma’s waist and sighed contentedly.

“Welcome home, Miss Swan.”

If either of them noticed her choice of word, neither of them felt it necessary to comment.

 ****  
***

 

“I don’t love him anymore,” Emma finally confided. She sounded embarrassed, and she kept her voice low, even though the only other person in the room was Gruff.

The dog had looked so piteously at Regina as they had continued on the path towards the castle that even she could not find it in herself to separate him from Emma. He followed the two women, his nose almost touching Regina’s shoulder, his long thin tail fanning gently from side to side to show his pleasure. She had allowed him to follow them into the castle, all the way to her personal throne room. Castle staff had turned visibly pale when they saw the giant animal padding along behind their queen, but Gruff had stayed close to Regina, not straying to explore all the delicious new scents that were calling to him from all over the castle. Emma would glance back at him from time to time and shake her head in bemusement at how well he was behaving.

There had been a light meal waiting for them in the throne room, as well as some wine, and solitude.

Regina had magicked up a bone for Gruff, poured the wine, and waited until Emma had eaten and drunk a few mouthfuls before saying, “Now, tell me everything.”

The first thing she’d said: “I don’t love him anymore.”

Regina’s eyes widened in shock.

“He changed,” Emma continued in the same abashed voice. “After his father died-”

“I heard. I was sorry for your loss.” Regina cut in automatically. She had felt for Emma when she’d heard the news. So much tragedy so soon after their wedding, it would have put a lot of strain on their fledgling marriage.

“I changed too,” Emma continued. “At first, when I first met him, I thought that was all I wanted. For someone to take me away from the drudgery of my life. It was supposed to be easy, Regina.” She laughed bitterly. “I would want for nothing, could spend all my days doing nothing.”

“It was not what you expected?”

Emma shook her head. “I had never been so bored. If I never see another embroidery needle in all my life, it’ll be too soon.”

Regina grinned and rubbed the gaudily decorated sleeve of Emma’s dress between her fingers. “Yet you are so good at it.”

Emma pulled her sleeve away from Regina and glared at her.

“You said he scared you,” Regina’s voice was serious again.

Emma put her hands into her lap, lowering her gaze to stare at her clenched fists.

“I told him I didn’t love him anymore. I asked to end our marriage.” She glanced up at Regina now, her face anguished. “What’s the point of being married to someone if you don’t love them?”

Regina shrugged. “Political power. To consolidate kingdoms. To signal an end to conflict. To ensure an heir.”

Emma’s laugh was bitter again. “None of that was true for us. But still he wouldn’t let me go. He said that I could only leave when he was done with me.”

Regina drew a sharp breath and released it on an almost-growl; Gruff echoed the sound, his hackles raising as he looked around for the threat Regina was responding to.

“How angry do I need to be?” Regina asked.

“What do you mean?”

“With Richard. How angry do I need to be?”

Emma looked into Regina’s narrowed eyes; the Queen vibrated with an almost palpable need to crush something. She didn’t know why, or from what, but something made her want to protect Regina.

“Please don’t be angry.”

“Are you saying that just because you always forgive everyone?”

“No. I don’t want you to be angry. I’m not forgiving him Regina, but I do understand. Everyone left him - his father, his mother. I was all he had left.”

“Still. That does not give him the right to keep you against your will.”

Emma just barely stopped the words “But he’s a king,” from leaving her mouth. She knew Regina had held people against their will - her dungeon had been notoriously full the first time Emma had been here. She didn’t want to start a fight with her though, so she just held her hands instead and said “Please? Don’t be angry with him.”

Regina glowered but said, “I’ll do my best.”

Suddenly they weren’t alone anymore as Talia, the royal seamstress, came barreling into the room. Gruff sat up excitedly at the intrusion, but with a word from Regina he lay back down again, burying his nose between his paws.

“I don’t believe it!” Talia cried out happily. “Miss Swan!” She engulfed Emma in a hug. “Welcome back! You have been _sorely_ missed.” She grinned widely at Regina, who frowned in irritation.

“Thank you, Talia,” Emma said, smiling at the smaller woman. “It is good to see you!”

Talia took a step back and stared at her. “What are you wearing?!”

Emma laughed sheepishly. “I know, it’s terrible, isn’t it?”

“First order of business, a new wardrobe then. And-”

“Talia.”

“Oh. My apologies, your Majesty. Am I getting ahead of myself?”

“A little. Will you take charge of Miss Swan please? See that her rooms are prepared, and she is settled in. Whatever she needs?”

“Of course, Ma’am.”

Regina turned to Emma, noting her disappointed look. She took hold of both her hands. “I am sorry my dear. But I need to attend a short Council meeting.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“No. No. Nothing to worry about. Just a briefing.”

 ****  
***

 

Regina allowed Gruff to follow her to the council room. He had looked distressed when she had stood up to go, and even though he was upset to leave Emma behind, she decided that it was safer to have the creature where she could keep an eye on him. She shuddered to think of the damage that could be caused in the castle if she allowed Talia, Emma, _and_ Gruff to roam unchecked. So she’d taken the least problematic of the three with her.

Rufus had assembled her handpicked council of advisors; a group of experienced, level headed men and women, from military as well as civilian life.

“What have we learned?” She asked as she took her seat. She was growing quite fond of the looks on people’s faces when they caught sight of Gruff. Perhaps she would allow the dog to accompany her to all her meetings. Between the presence of him and Henry, her opponents would be kept so far off guard, she would be able to get away with almost anything.

Rufus spoke first. “She did not hide anything from him, or the people. Everyone knew of your relationship.”

“Relationship?” Regina’s voice had teeth in it.

“That you sent her to him with chests of treasure. Everyone knew her soldiers were from your Royal Guard. She left him a note, saying she was coming here to you. And Richard’s roads are patrolled; her honour guard - they had to fight their way through.”

Regina sighed. She didn’t need to hear what Rufus said next to understand how badly off they were.

“It looks like an abduction, Ma’am. Like you stole her away from him.”

“What are our options? How will he react?”

A mustachioed General leaned forward. “He is an unknown element, your Majesty. A king only recently ascended. He has not tried himself against anything yet.”

“He has suffered great losses. Of a personal nature. He has perhaps come to the throne before his time.” Regina reminded them.

A non-descript gray haired old woman spoke next. “He’ll not back down lightly then. A young man like him, considers himself dashing and brave. He won’t care for being cuckolded. Especially not by you.”

Regina groaned. “He’s not _been_ cuckolded!”

Everyone around the table spoke at once, their responses along the lines of “yes your Majesty, of course not your Majesty.”

“It would be easiest if the girl returned to him.” The General again, earning himself a glower from Regina that made him settle back in his seat.

“Miss Swan is _not_ going anywhere.”

“Yes Ma’am,” the General replied quietly.

“So, we’re taking the diplomatic approach?” Rufus interjected.

Regina nodded. “Yes. Send him a letter. Send an envoy. Explain to King Richard that Miss Swan has placed herself under my protection. And here she will remain until and unless she decides otherwise.”

“Yes, your Majesty. Are we to refer to her in those terms? As ‘Miss Swan’?”

“That is her name,” Regina said shortly, getting to her feet to dismiss the meeting. “And strengthen our border patrols. If Richard tries a covert attack, I want it stopped before they set one foot on our soil. Make it happen, Rufus.”

 ****  
***

 

Regina found Emma in Henry’s nursery. She was sitting on the floor alternating between hiding her face in her hands and popping up with a ridiculous look and noise. Henry was laughing and beating his fists on the carpeted floor as though this was the most riveting performance he had ever seen; the sound of his glee filled the room. When Emma paused the game for a moment, he crawled forward and climbed into her lap. He reached up and grabbed fistfulls of her hair, tugging on it like a bellpull.

Emma started laughing and tried to extricate her hair from his hands, but Henry had always had a strong grip. He shoved his fist, hair and all, into his mouth.

“Oh, Henry!” Regina started forward to rescue Emma.

She didn’t seem to want rescuing though, but she allowed Regina to sit on the floor besides them and try to pull Henry away without hurting her too much.

“He’s fascinated with my hair,” Emma said, her eyes bright with laughter. “You must not wear yours down very often.”

Regina smiled wrily. “He likes you.”

She managed to separate her son from Emma’s tresses. But then he saw Gruff, who was sitting in the doorway, his head lowered and emitting the occasional soft whine. Henry made a noise of delight and shot off, crawling across the floor towards Gruff at great speed. Regina started to get to her feet, but Emma placed a hand on her arm to stop her.

“He is actually very good with children.”

Regina watched intently, but Emma was right. Gruff was incredibly patient with the baby, allowing him to hang off his neck and pet him. When Henry got a bit rough, Gruff stood up and walked away; Henry crawled after him. And so began the slowest chase in all history, Gruff loping leisurely along just beyond Henry’s grasp, and Henry, crowing with laughter, clawing his way across the carpet as fast as he could to try to catch up.

Regina watched her son and Emma’s dog, and felt the contentment warm through her. This was a dangerous feeling. This was too close to what she felt when it was just her and Henry. She had earned _that_ feeling; that belonged to her with no question. But this - this familiarity and belongingness and rightness of Emma by her side - she owned no claim to this. Just as she was feeling herself stiffen protectively, a serving woman appeared at the nursery door saying, “Bath time your Highness!”

Regina was grateful for the distraction. She scooped Henry up and focused on the ritual of the bath. This was always amongst the best moments of the day for her. Henry loved being immersed in water, and the Royal Carpenter had carved him a series of little shapes from hardwood - the horses and dragons were Henry’s favourites - that he could splash and play with while his mother washed his hair. And when he was warm and sleepy and folded into a large soft cloth, and she held him in her arms and looked down into his little peaceful face, Regina felt the pull of the future. If anyone had threatened her in this moment, thinking from the look on her face that she’d be weak or easy to overthrow, they would have discovered that, although the darkness had been banished from Regina’s heart, she had not forgot the lessons it had taught her about strength and violence.

Most of the castle staff knew that if Regina was available for bath time, she would prefer to be alone. But no one had thought to tell Emma Swan that she could not stand in the doorway and watch. Even Gruff knew to be very quiet as Regina placed Henry gently into his crib. They had the rare privilege of hearing Regina sing a soft lullaby, her voice rich and tender. Emma leaned against the doorjamb and forced herself to not cry. Regina pressed a final kiss to her sleeping son’s forehead, then turned and noticed her audience. The look on Emma’s face made her pause.

“Are you well, Miss Swan?”

Emma nodded. “Just tired.”

 ****  
***

 

Regina led her from the nursery and they walked together along quiet corridors towards Emma’s rooms. Gruff padded softly behind them.

“My mother sang that to me,” Emma said softly.

“Oh.”

“I have a memory of her voice, and her hair.”

It was one of the few happy memories she had of her mother. The illness had taken her mother young, and she had lingered for a while. What Emma remembered from that time was a pale woman with a weary smile who was often too tired to even listen to Emma read to her. After her mother had died, Emma’s father had been a broken shade of his former self, and all her efforts had gone into trying to bring back the cheerful man he had been. And then Lady Tremaine and her daughters had arrived, and all memories of happier times had been banished. This was one of only a handful that remained - the memory of a soft voice singing of shushing sorrows and dreaming treasures, and waves of dark hair that fell across her face as warm lips pressed to her forehead.

“She must have cared for you a great deal.”

“Henry’s very lucky to have you.”

“We’re lucky to have each other,” Regina corrected.

The talk of mothers and children had made Emma pensive and sad. She felt Regina draw closer as she reacted to the look on Emma’s face and the sorrow in her voice. Emma sought to turn the conversation to less problematic ground.

“Your council meeting. It was about me?”

Regina sighed. “Can we talk about this in the morning, Miss Swan?”

“I’d like to know what you’re planning, Regina.”

“Nothing. I’m not planning anything. I just sent an envoy to Richard. Telling him you would remain here under my protection for as long as you wished.”

“Oh. That’s very generous. Thank you.”

Regina shrugged, like it was not any great thing. They continued walking in silence for a few moments. As they neared her rooms, Emma spoke again. She had been fearing this conversation ever since Regina had left her with Talia. The seamstress had led her to her rooms, where serving women were waiting to help her bathe and change clothes, and exclaim over her ordeal and the arduous journey she’d had to make. They had welcomed her back, making coy comments about how glad everyone was to see her return, because now perhaps the Queen would find some of her old happiness again. When she had asked to see Henry, they had exchanged knowing glances, and smiled broadly when he had taken to her so completely. Henry had been a wonderful distraction from her growing worry. But then Regina had returned, and had revealed her warm, caring side. She had made Emma think of the last time she had felt that much love and tenderness. The trepidation had returned and grown, until it was a hot twisting weight in her belly. She knew she had to speak now, before her courage failed her completely.

“Before I left, I kissed you.”

Regina froze. “Yes.” She made it a question.

“I’ve been thinking about that. And I wanted to tell you-”

“How much you regretted it?” Regina cut in sardonically.

“No! I don’t regret it at all! I’d never kissed anyone before, and I’m glad it was you. Who was my first.”

Regina sighed. “Emma-”

“But I don’t want to do it again.”

“Oh.”

“Not yet.”

“Oh.”

“Please understand.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Miss Swan.”

“But I want you to understand. Everyone told me about true love - my mother and father, my fairy godmother, strangers I met in Richard’s castle. Even you!” Regina frowned deeply at that, but she let Emma continue. “I thought Richard was my true love. He was supposed to be my destiny. Chosen for me by magic!”

“I’ve never thought of magic as a reliable matchmaker,” Regina said drily.

“How was I supposed to know that?! Everything pointed at Richard. And I went to him, and I tried. But...I thought true love would never fade.”

“It isn’t supposed to. True love is a constant. It doesn’t vary. That’s why it is so powerful. Very few things in this world are unchanging.”

“What Richard and I felt for each other was obviously inconstant.”

“Then it wasn’t true love,” Regina said firmly.

“I’m fed up to my back teeth with it!” Frustration made her voice harsh and heated. “The entire kingdom loved me simply because of this ‘true love’. They knew nothing about me, but they adored me! It was stifling, Regina. Believing that I had to be a certain way, because the fates had spoken, because it was my destiny.”

“It is possible to push back against destiny.”

“I know! That’s what I’m trying to do now. But … I didn’t come to you to exchange one supposed ‘true love’ for another.”

“Emma-”

“Everyone in this castle seems to think that I came back here for you.”

“That is-”

“But I didn’t.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, I came here because I missed you. And because your castle was the first place I’d felt safe and like I belonged again, from even before my father died. But that doesn’t mean that I think you are my true love!”

“Of course not.”

“I’ve had enough of true love.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“You’re not angry?”

“Why would I be? I told you long ago Miss Swan, love is not for me.”

“Oh. But-”

“You have nothing to fear. I have no expectations of you being here. I am just glad you came to me, instead of asking your confounded fairy godmother for help again. I shudder to think what vegetables and vermin she’d mutate this time.”

Emma examined Regina’s face and found nothing but honesty there. Regina was not going to reject her for not saying she loved her. The tightness in Emma’s belly eased, and the fear flowed out of her. It left her feeling weak, heavy limbed and light headed with relief.  She reached out to hug Regina, needing to almost cling to her for support to remain standing.

“Thank you, Regina.”

“Don’t mention it. Now, you should rest.”

Regina left Emma and Gruff at the door and made her way back to her own rooms. She looked in on Henry first, and stood and watched him sleep for a very long time.

She had everything she could conceivably have hoped for in this room. More than she could have dreamed possible. It would be enough.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of noble pining, if that's your thing, and Regina navigating how to be a kinder, gentler queen (when sometimes you just want to rip a person's heart out). And at least one very bad pun.

Regina bit back a sigh. The members of her council were gathered around her, the looks on their faces ranging from concerned to barely disguised frustration. Only Rufus appeared calm and unruffled. She missed the old days sometimes; back then virtually all she’d see at these meetings was fear and capitulation. She’d had less complicated decisions to make too - attack or not; burn everything to the ground or merely salt the earth; empty her enemies’ coffers or leave them enough so they wouldn’t starve until winter. There had been very little nuance required of the decisions they’d had to reach. They hadn’t had to worry about Regina’s conscience, or that Miss Swan had asked the Queen to not react with anger.

“I don’t blame him,” Emma had said when she and Regina had settled over breakfast three weeks ago, the morning after she had told Regina that she was not seeking her true love any more. “He is hurt. I remember what it was like when my mother and father died, and I was all alone in the world. Part of me wanted to strike out against anything and everything.”

“You didn’t listen to that part very well.” Regina had said drily.

“Being cruel gains you nothing. I know that. I’d rather help people than hurt them.”

Regina had sighed and gripped Emma’s hand tightly. “But he hurt you first. Do you not want me to...to...teach him a lesson?” She had _wanted_ to say ‘rip his heart out’, but she realised that was probably a slightly over the top response, and definitely one that Emma would not appreciate. “He deserves it.”

“He needs time to heal, Regina. He is grieving. He is not himself.”

“But I can _make_ him leave you alone!”

“How? By being intimidating and cruel?”

“It is effective.”

“Give him time, Regina. Please? He will come around. He will listen to reason.”

Against her better judgement, Regina had capitulated. It was difficult to deny Emma Swan anything, especially when she looked at Regina with such trust shining out of her eyes. Emma had always acted like she saw only the good in Regina; even when others had quaked before the Queen, Emma would approach her with defences down and her face open and smiling. Regina found it very difficult to stay angry when Emma Swan smiled at her. It was as though Emma had some form of magic, a power that met Regina’s fiery anger and hostility and gentled and soothed it, leaving Regina suddenly unsteady, with Emma’s faith in her the only solid thing to hold on to. So she had promised that she would make no aggressive moves against Richard; that she would give him time; that she would treat with him calmly and peacefully.

Two council members in particular seemed to be struggling with these new conditions. One was General Bernard, a heavily mustachioed and heavily decorated veteran of countless campaigns. Bernard the Blind they called him. He had earned the name early in his career, when he had been a mere captain, serving a young King Leopold. His small company - the last survivors of a disastrously led campaign - had faced the enemy, outnumbered ten-to-one. Their Commander had given the order to retreat. Bernard had refused to obey.

“Do you not _see_ them?!” the Commander had screamed at him, waving his arms at the advancing hordes of enemy forces. “Pull back!”

Legend had it that Bernard had shrugged, said “If I must pluck my own eyes out, so I do not fear sighting my enemy, I shall.” And then he had led his men on a suicide charge.

Bernard had won a famous victory that day and Leopold had rewarded him by elevating him to the rank of commander. When Leopold died, Regina had made Bernard a general and set him to work striking terror into the hearts of all the kings and princes who had opposed her rise to power. Bernard’s loyalty and fearlessness had earned him a place on her council.

His dearest friend and chief opponent on the council was Blanche, a grey-haired old woman who looked like she should be sunning herself in a rocking chair, passing the time knitting booties for her grandchildren. Blanche was Regina’s spymaster. Where Bernard was brash and forward, believing in the honesty of an open charge and the clash of steel against bone, Blanche relied on subtle string-pulling behind the scenes, gathering pieces of information here, seeding bits of misinformation there, exploiting the desires of their enemies to lay the inner workings of their minds bare. No one was entirely sure where she came from or what had led her to her current position, sitting at the heart of a web of operatives that spanned the fiefs and kingdoms around Regina’s realm. To some she was a retired brothel keeper, to others the widow of various men of great power, or the matriarch of a formidable clan of secretive warriors, or a witch with the power to sniff out lies on a person’s skin. Only Regina knew the truth - that there was a small element of truth to _all_ these stories. Blanche was the closest thing to a mother Regina had ever had. She was certainly a much better mother to Regina than the woman who had actually given birth to her.

Bernard thought the spies’ clandestine methods deceitful, while Blanche thought making a military response to all problems wasteful. They bickered constantly during council meetings. But with the problem of King Richard they seemed unified in purpose. Regina found that most unsettling.

“We must make a more definitive response Ma’am!” The General pleaded.

“We cannot continue to sit here and do nothing!” Blanche agreed, her voice unusually harsh with frustration. “At least permit me to respond to the lies that are being levelled against you!”

“What lies are these?” The woman who spoke was a recent addition to the Council, one of the people Regina had appointed when her focus had changed from aggression to nurturing and caring for her own people. So now there were farmers and healers and poets on the council, people who were not as aware of or adept at political machinations as Blanche and Bernard. Blanche glared at the interruption, but responded, through gritted teeth.

“Every hamlet in Richard’s kingdom now has puppet shows and mummers. Sent out from his palace. They tell a story of a vile sorceress who _stole_ the beautiful queen away, using witchcraft and magic. And the sorceress keeps the queen chained up in a tower!” She turned to glare at Regina now. “And the people _believe_ these lies! And then the hero king comes, on his big white horse, and saves the queen. And everyone cheers. And everyone boos and hisses when the sorceress is on stage. And they cheer again when the king kills her!”

“What do _our_ people believe?” Regina asked quietly.

“That is not the point!” Blanche said at the same time as Rufus was saying “They know the truth.”

“What do I care what Richard’s people believe?” Regina continued, as though neither of them had spoken. It sounded almost as though she were talking to herself, but Blanche responded anyway.

“He is painting you the villain, your Majesty. His people are growing to hate you. Hate _and_ fear. That is never a good combination. They will support any claim or campaign he makes against you. As will others.”

“Need I remind you, there have already been two incursions against our border,” Bernard cut in.

“‘Incursion’ is a strong word, General,” Regina said. “A handful of men, trying to sneak past our lines -”

“Still an act of aggression, your Majesty! And we did nothing but send them back!”

“Stripped naked and with their hands tied behind their backs. They would hardly have had the most comfortable of journeys.”

“That is not the story that Richard’s people heard,” Blanche said. “It was reported that you had the men flayed before you turned them loose in the wild.”

Regina smiled wrily. “I would have done something like that. Once.”

“Let me make a response, Ma’am! My people can easily counter the stories Richard is telling. Let his people hear the truth - that his love is not true. That he rejected and spurned his wife. Let them see how happy she is here!”

“No.”

“But your Majesty-”

“You are talking about exposing Miss Swan’s personal life to people who have no business knowing anything about it! And to what end - to defend _my_ reputation?”

“There is more than your reputation at stake Ma’am!”

“No, Blanche. Her life has been spectacle enough as it is. No more.”

Blanche slumped back in her chair, head bowed. She glanced at Bernard, who took up the argument.

“We must then prepare for the attack.”

“What attack?” Rufus demanded, already sifting through the sheaf of reports on the table in front of him, “I have seen nothing about troop movements.”

“All this tomfoolery - these puppets and mummings, the attempts to sneak across our borders - they all point to one thing. Richard _will_ attack.” He spoke with the conviction of a lifetime spent in battle and around men who dreamed and breathed war. Bernard knew that every time Regina ignored a taunt Richard made, she forced his hand closer and closer to declaring war. Richard was turning Regina into a terrifying nightmare creature, one powerful and evil enough to swoop into a secure castle and steal the woman the King loved. The more people believed this version of the story, the less heroic Richard would be if he did not try to save his Queen. His people would have to question why their dashing King did not do something to bring Queen Emma home. They would begin to whisper, wondering if their King was a coward, if Regina had beaten him with so little effort. Richard would not want to appear so weak to his own people. He would have to act, and act with decisive aggression.  

“What was his response to our latest envoy?” Regina asked.

“The same,” Rufus informed her. “Sent away from the castle gates, with the same demand he has always made - return my Queen.”

Regina snarled. “Does he think she is a bauble for us to squabble over? Like children with their toys! Has he not heard _anything_ she has said?!”

“It appears not, your Majesty.”

“He will come against us, your Majesty.” Bernard said. “If we are not prepared, soon we may be fighting him off at these very walls. Think of your people, Ma’am. You have never let anyone make war within your borders.”

Regina frowned as she considered what her General had implied. He did speak the truth. Even in the lands she had annexed early in her reign, Regina had so thoroughly shut down rebellions that the people had lived in relative peace; their greatest threat had been their own Queen, but even that fear had not been present for over a year now, and her people had quickly grown accustomed to feeling safe in their own homes. She had a duty to maintain that peace. 

Blanche gave her the final impetus. 

“If we fail, he will not be kind to her.”

Regina’s body stilled, her face stiffening into an expressionless mask. Only her clenched fists gave any indication of the turmoil Blanche’s quiet words had thrown her into. She had not considered the possibility that Emma could fall back into Richard’s clutches. All their actions so far had been attempts to get Richard to accept that his marriage was over. She knew he no longer loved Emma, and there was no evidence she would ever provide him an heir, and so the only reason he was insistent she return to him was because he had been humiliated. If he could get past that, perhaps he would be willing to let her go as she had asked. But it was becoming more and more obvious that Richard would not be calmed or appeased by words. She acknowledged that Bernard and Blanche were correct - Richard would try to take Emma back by force. Regina could no longer assume that the security of distance would keep Emma safe.

“Very well,” Regina ground out, still reluctant but resolved. She had reasoned that if she kept her response a purely defensive one, then she was still keeping her word. Surely even Emma could not fault her for keeping her realm safe.

“Rally the army.” She nodded at Bernard and Blanche, “I expect an analysis of Richard’s troops and strategies, and proposed battle plans by the end of the day. Let me be clear on this General; we will defend our borders, but we will do no more.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Regina rose to her feet, but paused before she left the room. “And Miss Swan is not to know.”

“Ma’am?”

“There will be no talk of armies or war outside this room. She is not to know.” 

Despite her firm belief that using her army for defence was not an aggressive response, a small corner of Regina’s mind was concerned that Emma would not be as convinced. It was slightly cowardly, but she did not want to have to face an Emma who felt that Regina had let her down. A small lie of omission wouldn’t hurt anyone, and would keep the peace between them. 

“She is not to know that you are willing to go to war to defend her?” Bernard asked with surprise in his voice, not realising that Regina did not necessarily see this as a heroic act. In his mind, there could be no more romantic a gesture a person could make.

“I don’t think I could have made myself any clearer.” Regina said shortly.

“But Ma’am-”

“The first person to tell her will be flogged. By my own hand!” There was more than a flash of the old Regina in her voice and eyes, and for a moment she saw the fear and capitulation she had missed in the faces around her.

“Yes, your Majesty!”

 

Regina strode from the meeting room, her mind troubled. She was not accustomed to second guessing herself when she made a decision. She had very little experience of feeling accountable to another person. Regina had stopped caring what other people thought of her soon after her marriage to Leopold. That, and the favour of the Spymaster, had saved her from falling victim to any number of plots involving the young, inexperienced queen. Her unflinching confidence had become her trademark. But lately she had found herself weighing the impact her actions would have, not only on Henry, but on Miss Swan too. The thought of disappointing either of them left her with a cold hollowness twisting in her gut. 

It was a strange thing for her, to find that she could not prevent herself from wondering how someone else would feel about her actions, worrying that they would think less of her. She never wanted to see anything but love and admiration shining back at her from her son’s eyes. As for Miss Swan, her feelings there were more complicated, and she did not want to examine them too deeply. It was an act of self-preservation then, to not risk causing a falling out, because Regina was not sure she wanted to deal with the consequences. Emma Swan had learned to walk away from a situation she thought untenable. Unlike Richard, Regina knew that if Emma wanted it, she would let her go, even though Regina did not want her to. She liked having Emma around, and Henry adored her. So she would do what she must to keep everything on an even keel between them. A small subterfuge then, followed by a decisive victory, and she would be able to tell Emma that Richard had withdrawn his claim on her, and their lives could continue without the spectre of a petulant king looming over them.

 

***

 

She went in search of Emma and Henry. Regina had stopped taking Henry to council meetings because they were now fraught with over-charged emotions, not least her own anger, and she did not want to expose Henry to that. He spent his mornings either in the care of a favourite serving woman, or with Emma.

Emma Swan’s whereabouts made for a more interesting story. Emma thought she was keeping it a great secret, but Regina was queen, and a queen who didn’t know everything that happened in her castle didn’t stay queen very long.

Regina had set Rufus to find out where Emma disappeared to for several hours at a stretch every morning and afternoon, while Regina was in court or at council meetings. She would sometimes have Gruff and Henry with her, but more likely she would disappear on her own. She would always make it back for every meal time, often with her face smudged with dirt, reminding Regina of how she had looked when she had been called Cinders. But that name, and the reason for it, were far in the past. So what was Miss Swan doing now to cause her to walk around with a dirty face and torn skirts that Talia despaired of. Regina had heard the seamstress wail one evening, when Emma had sheepishly turned in an armful of muddied and torn silk for mending. Both women had grown silent when Regina walked into the room, then stiltedly turned their conversation to other matters. Regina’s curiosity burned, and she ordered Rufus to find out what was going on.

Regina made her way towards the stables. It was close enough to lunchtime that Emma must be nearly finished. As she neared the mid-sized paddock, where her personal horses were often grazed and rested, she could see Gruff pacing along the fence. Henry was bouncing in the arms of a serving woman, and Captain Duncan stood close by turning towards Henry every few moments to make a remark or point something out. It looked like they were having a very serious conversation, although she could hear her son’s laughter from here, and the image made her smile. She trusted Duncan; he had led his company of men well, had kept faithful to his orders to protect Emma, and had brought her safely home when she had asked him to. Regina was sorry to lose him from the royal guard, but he had asked to return to his home in a distant part of the realm. His county needed a sheriff, and Regina had been happy to recommend him to the position, even if it meant losing his presence in her guard. 

It wasn’t long before Gruff caught her scent and bayed joyfully. He leapt the fence and bounded towards her; Regina bit back a laugh. The giant dog’s behaviour had improved vastly, but sometimes his happiness at seeing the members of his small family made him forget his manners. And it was obvious who Gruff considered family; he had taken to padding around the castle at night, dividing his time between laying across Emma’s bed, (they had had to move a much larger bed into her rooms to accommodate him), curling up on a large cushion placed on the floor by Regina’s bedside, and standing guard in the doorway of Henry’s nursery. On more than one occasion, when she had been woken by the clatter of his nails on stone floors or the deep huffing noises he made when he dreamed, Regina had contemplated moving them all into one large room so that Gruff would stay in one place for the night. But she had yet to drum up enough courage to mention her idea to Emma, even as a joke.

Gruff stopped his bounding run when she told him to, sat when she gave the order, and panted happily when she patted his neck and scratched behind his ears. Henry had noticed her too now, and had started calling out to her; his name for her was ‘mam’, probably because he heard her addressed as ‘Ma’am’ so many times. Emma was ‘ma’ to him, and Regina did not allow herself to think beyond the fact that Ma was a shortened form of Emma. Gruff, and for some reason any horse he came across, was ‘Uf’. Regina suspected the next person he named would be Rufus, or Talia; she looked forward to seeing the looks on their faces when Henry decided what he would call them.

She took him from the serving woman’s arms and spent a few minutes talking to him and kissing the top of his head. He smelled of sunshine and grass. She set him down on his feet and watched proudly as he waddled back and forth between fence posts, only needing to grab on to her hand occasionally for support. He was much more confident on his feet, and Gruff had to be careful to stay in front of him when they played together now. Her son was growing up so fast; she wished she knew the spell to slow time, so she could keep him innocent and unaware of the decisions his mother had to make. She could only hope that when he was older he would not judge her too harshly for her past, and that he would understand some of her present choices. Good or evil, sometimes you had to fight to protect what was important to you.

Captain Duncan stood stiffly at attention besides her while she played with her son.

“Where is Miss Swan?” she asked pleasantly.

“Ma’am?” His voice was hesitant.

“I know she comes to the stables, Captain. I know she is here now. But I don’t see her. Where is she?”

“She wanted it to be a surprise, Ma’am.” There was a slight tremor to his voice.

Regina was impressed.

“I do not generally have to ask a question a third time, Captain.”

“Yes, Ma’am. She’ll be here soon. She’s in the stalls.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

She picked a yawning Henry up, brushed off his feet, kissed him, and handed him to the serving woman. “He’s ready for his lunch.” And he’d nap after eating. That would give her some time alone with Emma.

She started to climb through the bars of the fence, but then the stable doors opened and a dusty Emma Swan stepped through. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw Regina.

“What are you doing here?!” She called out, running across the grass towards where Regina stood.

Regina grinned wickedly. “It is my paddock, Miss Swan. And my stables. I can go where I please.”

“Yes, but...you never come down here after your morning ride!”

It shouldn't have been possible, but Regina’s grin grew even more wicked. “One would almost think you were hiding something from me, Miss Swan.”

Emma had reached her now, and the disappointment in her eyes made Regina regret her decision to tease the woman.

“You know, don’t you?”

“It is difficult to keep a secret from me, Emma,” she said gently. “I have spies everywhere.”

Emma huffed in exasperation, but then brightened a little. “Do you want to see her?”

“Are you ready to show me?”

“Yes, I think so. I would have liked to have a chance to clean up first, but since you are as impatient as Henry is-”

“Miss Swan,” Regina said warningly. Emma grinned.

“I’ll go get her!” She turned to dash back towards the stables, then turned on her heel. “Wait here,” she ordered. Seeing Regina’s arched eyebrow, she added in a more placating tone, “Okay?”

Regina nodded and watched her hurry away. She glanced up at Captain Duncan, who still stood at attention. Sweat beaded his forehead.

“How long?”

“Ma’am?”

“How long has she been practicing.”

“Almost the entire time we’ve been away.”

“With Richard?”

“Not really Ma’am. The King knew nothing of it.”

“I see. But she persisted? Unharmed?”

“Oh, yes Ma’am. Very much so. It just took finding the right match Ma’am. Something that worked for her.”

“And she has found it?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

The stable doors swung open and Emma Swan emerged again, mounted on the back of a sturdy little mare.

Regina found she was holding her breath, her muscles tensed as she readied herself to vault the fence and grab the reins if the horse bolted. She felt Captain Duncan tense up in much the same way besides her. 

But Emma kept her seat, and walked the horse slowly forward. Her proud smile beamed down at Regina, and the Queen found an answering smile start to spread across her face. 

“She has it.”

“Yes, Ma’am. She’s worked _very_ hard.” He sounded like a pleased father.

Now that the initial worry and rush of pride had washed over her, Regina could pay attention to details. As she watched Emma slowly put the mare through her paces, Regina glanced at Duncan, her eyes narrowed to a flinty glare.

“You call that a horse?”

“Ma’am?”

“That is _not_ a horse, Captain. That is a walking pot of glue!”

“Ma’am.”

“Its hide looks like it’s been attacked by a colony of moths!”

“Ma’am.”

“And that mane...is that even a mane? Was it made from leftovers?!”

“Ma’am.”

“Tell me it’s been dipped in dye. Nothing natural would be that yellow.”

“Ma’am.”

She stopped grousing when Emma approached.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“You were magnificent!” Regina replied, her voice warmed by a broad smile. 

Emma looked so pleased with herself that Regina swallowed down any commentary she may have made about the horse itself. 

“Would you like to go for a ride with me?” Emma asked shyly. 

Regina beamed. She would like nothing better.

“That sounds like a marvelous idea,” Regina replied. “Captain Duncan, would you see that Rocinante is saddled?”

Regina waved her hand and disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. When she reappeared, a few minutes later, her clothing had changed into riding gear, and a lunch basket rested at her feet.

 

 

The two women rode side by side for a while, with Gruff loping along behind them. Regina set a gentle pace so she could surreptitiously watch how Emma, and her horse, handled the open country beyond the paddock. 

When Regina had satisfied herself that the yellow horse would not bolt and that Emma would not fall out of the saddle, she relaxed and started enjoying her surroundings.

“So, what do you really think?” Emma asked, as soon as Regina’s guard was lowered.

“You’re doing very well,” Regina replied honestly.

“Thank you. I hoped you’d be pleased. I thought it’d be nice if we could ride together again. Properly this time.”

Regina glanced at her in surprise.  Emma made it sound as though she’d learned to ride as a gift for Regina. It was the oddest gift anyone had ever given her, but she was charmed by the gesture. The last time she had tried to go riding with Emma Swan, her horse had bolted across two counties before Regina had managed to catch up with them. Emma had trembled for ages after and clung to Regina as she had tried to choke back her sobs of fright. Regina had sent for a carriage to bring them back to the castle, and she had never suggested Emma go riding again. But it seemed Emma would not let her fright keep her from trying again, and she had made herself practice even when there would have been no reason for her to do so. She hadn’t gone riding with Richard though; she had saved it for Regina. The hope that thought gave her made Regina simultaneously want to reach out to take Emma’s hand and pull back behind walls of forced indifference. Hope was an enemy; hope would make her believe she could have something that was not being offered. Her mood darkened a little.

Oblivious to what Regina was thinking, Emma was saying happily, “I love this horse.”

“Indeed.”

The tone of Regina’s voice - caustic and delivered with a sardonic twist of her lip - brought Emma up short.

“What? Do you not like her?”

“She is very...interesting to look at.”

“You don’t like her!”

“I didn’t say that. I suppose her head isn’t too oddly shaped.” 

“Regina!”

“What?”

“You’ll hurt her feelings!”

“Miss Swan, she is a horse. She does not know, or care, that I called her ugly.”

“You think she’s ugly!”

“I do not!”

“You do!”

“Oh all right, I do! But really, can you blame me? That colour - it’s hideous.”

“Regina!”

“I am not hurting her feelings, Miss Swan!”

“I love this horse!”

“Of course you do,” Regina sighed.

They rode in silence for a while, guilt nibbling at Regina. She could see Emma’s crestfallen face and it was making her feel like she had just deliberately kicked Gruff. It was not at all a pleasant feeling, and she was growing angry with herself for hurting the other woman.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know she’s not as beautiful as Rocinante. But I do love her. She’s brave Regina, and good hearted, and she does anything I ask of her.”

“She certainly is being very careful with you,” Regina said thoughtfully. 

She had been watching the yellow mare pick her way carefully across the ground, her steadiness compensating for Emma’s inexperience. If she had to choose between beauty or a mount that would keep her rider safe, Regina knew which one she’d pick. 

“She’s a good horse,” Regina conceded. “I’m glad you found her.”

Emma had smiled then, and had stayed cheerful as they had ridden up the gentle slope to a shady stand of trees. It was a place they came to often, the elevated position offering them a view of the castle and the bend of the stream that ran by it. The stream wound around a small hamlet that stood not five hundred metres from the castle gates. The stream and the proximity to the castle had given the hamlet its name - Castlebrook. It was a thriving little place, surrounded by farmlands and woodlands, and providing shelter and service to any number of people who had business with or near the castle.  

They dismounted by the trees and set up their lunch on a blanket Emma spread on the grass. Gruff flung himself down next to them, his legs going everywhere; he gazed dolefully at Emma until she gave him half a chicken.

“You spoil that dog,” Regina muttered. But there was no real heat to her voice. She was far too relaxed to make a big deal of the need to maintain discipline for Gruff. She just wanted to lean her back against a tree and watch the wind blow the shadows of clouds along the green grass. She reached out absentmindedly and took Emma’s hand in her own, threading their fingers together. Emma leaned her head against Regina’s shoulder.

“Have you given her a name, your horse?”

The woman had named her dog Gruff. Regina was not holding out much hope for a reasonably sophisticated name for the yellow mare, but she was still not prepared for what Emma had chosen.

“Spider.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Her name. It’s Spider.”

“You named your horse after an _insect?”_

Emma grinned. “She has a marking that looks like a spider’s web on her haunches.”

“I noticed. I thought she looked moth-eaten.”

“Regina!”

“She can’t even hear me at this distance!”

Emma huffed, but crept closer to Regina, shifting her body to slide lower along the tree so she could bury her face in the curve of Regina’s neck. 

“I like the name.”

“Of course you do.”

They sat in silence for a while, Regina keeping her breathing even and anchoring her hand in Emma’s so she wouldn’t be tempted to slip her arm around her waist. She thought Emma may have fallen asleep, her breathing was so low and steady. But Emma wasn’t sleeping.

“Regina, I have something to ask you.”

“Of course, Miss Swan.”

“You know Captain Duncan is going home?”

“Yes.”

“He’s going to be a sheriff.”

“I know.”

“I think I’d like to do that.”

Regina looked down at the little she could see of Emma’s face. Her hair had fallen forward, blocking Regina from seeing her clearly.

“You want to go with Captain Duncan?”

“What? No!” Emma sat up and looked earnestly at Regina. “I want to be a sheriff. Or at least, I’d like to try.”

“Oh. Oh I see.” Regina couldn’t look at Emma’s eager face; the implications of this unexpected request were too worrisome. She looked at the horizon instead. Smoke curled up from cottage chimneys and children splashed through the shallow water. It was peaceful and calming, but Emma was looking at her expectantly and she had to say something.

“I don’t know if that is such a good idea, Miss Swan.”

“Why not?”

“It is not the safest of professions. Some of the counties and shires that need sheriffs - they are in remote areas. Extremely lawless areas. I do not think that you would be prepared for something like that. Captain Duncan - he has years of military service. But you. You are… No, Miss Swan. I don’t think a sheriff’s life is for you.”

“Not even in Castlebrook?”

That caused Regina to turn and glare at her.

“Castlebrook _has_ a sheriff.”

“He will be retiring soon.”

“And who do I have to thank for giving you that piece of information?”

“The Captain, but please don’t be angry with him. He thought I’d be good at it. He said there wasn’t very much law keeping to do here, and being this close to the castle means there’s always royal guards around. I’d be the safest sheriff in your entire realm.”

“Why do you want to be a sheriff, Miss Swan?”

“I want to help people, Regina. Isn’t that what sheriffs do?”

“They also collect taxes,” Regina pointed out. “Sheriffs aren’t popular on collection days.”

“Captain Duncan said people are happier to pay their taxes now.”

“Remind me to thank the Captain for how thoroughly he has prepared you, Miss Swan.”

“Please Regina. Will you consider it? I know I don’t have any experience. But I have been studying. And if I am to replace Sheriff Grant, then perhaps I can be his apprentice before he retires, and learn from him?”

Regina knew Grant well. He was an old man, tired and worn, who spent all his time sitting in the sheriff’s chambers with his feet propped up on the desk, snoring gently. If Emma expected to learn anything from him, she’d have to be content with acquiring an intricate knowledge of creative ways to avoid work, the best places to nap, and which taverns were happy to serve mugs of ale to sheriffs at no cost.

“Or perhaps I will have Rufus find somebody else to train you.”

Emma grinned. “So you’ll consider it?”

“Yes Miss Swan, I will consider it.”

Both of them knew this was a formality. Emma had obviously expended some effort into proving the merit of her idea, and Regina already knew how difficult it was for her to deny Emma Swan anything. Besides, it would be nice to have her near by. If Emma found something different to do, who knew where the fates would take her. Regina would much prefer it if Emma Swan remained close enough for regular visits. Henry would miss her terribly if she moved away.

 

 

***

 

Regina had spent the afternoon closeted with Rufus and her military leaders. They worked through Henry’s dinner and bath time, but Regina made it back to the nursery in time for the ritual of his bedtime. His new bedtime ritual, which they had developed to accommodate the fact that Henry and Emma mutually adored each other, and that Regina loved watching Emma care for her son almost as much as she loved caring for him herself.

Emma was already there, sitting in the large chair by the window, a sleepy Henry bundled in her lap as she read to him. Gruff gave a little whine of welcome when Regina appeared in the doorway, causing Emma to stop reading. Henry started grizzling at the interruption, then noticed Regina and reached out to her with both arms, his crying growing louder. Regina scooped him up and peppered his face with kisses, soothing his tears.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” she whispered, her apology intended for both Henry and Emma.

“Is everything all right?” Emma enquired. 

Regina nodded and smiled tiredly, but said nothing. She was looking down at Henry, who returned his mother’s gaze with sleepy brown eyes, his eyelids drooping shut now that he was held safely against her heartbeat.

Emma stood up and moved with Regina towards Henry’s crib. She stood by Regina’s side as she cradled him in her arms and sang his favourite lullaby. When Henry fell asleep, Regina laid him in his crib and both women leaned down to kiss him goodnight. 

They watched over him in silence for a few minutes, then Emma linked her arm through Regina’s and led her from the nursery. Gruff followed them, walking closely behind Regina. With Emma at her side and Gruff at her back, Regina felt more protected than she did even when she was flanked by her armed guard.  

“Have you eaten?” Emma asked.

Regina leaned into Emma’s shoulder. “Yes.”

“Is everything all right?” Emma asked again.

Regina found Emma’s solicitousness a problematic thing; she enjoyed being the recipient of it too much. Relying on someone else in that way was a sign of weakness. It was a much stronger position to be the person who provided care for others; there was less chance you could be hurt when someone decided you no longer deserved their affection and concern. And you always held the power of threatening to withdraw your own affection from them. Regina had learned that lesson from her mother, but Emma Swan was making her forget, making her learn a different way of thinking. Emma Swan made Regina believe that she could trust another person enough to let her be vulnerable.

“Everything is fine, Emma. Except that I need to go away for a few days.”

“Oh.”

“I must attend to some negotiations, away from the castle.”

“Will you be gone very long?”

“I hope not. But I will have to leave Henry behind. This is not something I can bring him to.”

“He’ll miss you.”

“I know that. But I have no choice!” 

Even though Emma hadn’t meant her words as an accusation, Regina’s response was delivered in a raw voice, thick and grating with the tears she was holding in check. She started to pull away from Emma’s hold.

“Oh Regina,” Emma tightened her grip and pulled Regina into a hug. “I’m sorry. I’ll look after him. You know I will! I’ll take care of him, he’ll be safe with me.”

Regina stood stiffly in Emma’s embrace, but Emma continued speaking, saying things like, “I’ll read to him every night, but I may not sing to him, because he probably won’t like that very much. Gruff will look after him too. Unless you want to take Gruff with you? I think you should - he’ll take care of you when you’re away from us.”

Her words, and the emotion that coloured them, painted such a strong image in Regina’s mind; an image of her place as part of an ‘us’, of a place where she belonged and was surrounded by people who would look after her whether she asked for it or not. A place where someone else actually cared what she wanted not because she had given an order, but because they were thinking about _her_ \- about Regina, not the Queen. When Emma Swan spoke, and whether she intended it or not, Regina heard the sound of family. 

“I don’t think Gruff would enjoy it,” she said at last. Her body was still stiff, but her hands had come up to rest in the bend of Emma’s elbows, her fingers curling around the muscle of Emma’s arms. She leaned her forehead against Emma’s shoulder, trying to absorb some of the strength she needed to make it through the next few days away from her family. 

As much as Regina would welcome his company, a battlefield was no place for a dog as gentle as Gruff. The afternoon session with her military advisors had made it clear that Richard was making his move against her. Blanche’s spies had reported troops marching towards their western border; Bernard had already started deploying his army in a counter pattern. War was very nearly upon them.

Regina would travel with the army, although she would not enter the fray this time. She had said she would not use her magic against Richard’s forces; she knew her power could be a dark beast, difficult to curb when she was angry, and Richard was making her very angry. She did not want to unleash the viciousness of her fury against his army - it was not his men’s fault that their king’s petulance was pulling them into this war. So Bernard and his Commanders would lead her forces into battle, but Regina would be with them behind the front line. Her men would know their Queen was close by if they needed her. 

Being away from Henry was the most painful part of her decision. That, and not telling Emma where she was going and why. Even though she had convinced herself that keeping the truth from Emma was for the best, Regina felt guilty about it. Guilt was still an unfamiliar emotion for her, and she had no way to protect herself from the tightness in her chest it caused when Emma was being so concerned about her wellbeing. So she stepped back from Emma, needing to put some distance between them.

“I should rest before my journey.”

“You will tell me if there is something else I can do to help?”

“Knowing you will take care of Henry is more than enough, Miss Swan.”

Emma grinned. “Think of me as your personal sheriff.” 

Then she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Regina’s cheek. “I’ll always take care of both of you, your Majesty,” she whispered. 

Emma’s lips brushed softly against Regina’s cheek as she spoke, sending tendrils of fire through her body. She never called Regina by her title, and when she did it now, like this, soft and sweet, with her mouth against her skin, it felt like the most intimate lover’s caress.

Regina hissed and drew back, battling against the instinct to stop denying herself and simply reach out to take what she wanted.

She brushed her thumb across Emma’s mouth and heard the breath hitch in her throat. She thought of all the things she could say: a warning to be careful; a comment on how soft her lips felt; an invitation to share her bed. Then she saw the confusion in Emma’s eyes, and a brief flash of something that looked uncomfortably like fear. Regina sighed. This was not the time for her to stop being strong.

“Good night, Miss Swan.”

They parted ways in the corridor, Regina continuing on to her rooms by herself, and Emma hesitating for a few moments before turning back towards the way they had come.

When the corridor was empty again, the sound of their footsteps disappearing into the distance, Blanche the spymaster stepped out from the shadows. 

She hadn’t intentionally been following her Queen. It was a happy coincidence that she had been in this place, in time to bear witness to yet another piece of evidence that, like the poet had said, the course of true love never did run smooth. 

But perhaps it would run a little smoother now. Blanche was no fairy godmother; her methods would be more direct than a misplaced glass slipper.

 

***

 

The air in the tent was hot and stifling. Her generals and commanders sat or stood around the table, which bore the maps and other implements Bernard was using to show how the battle was proceeding.

It was not going well.

Four days they had been here, camped out on a hill, with a narrow pass at their backs, overlooking the lightly forested plain just across their border where Richard’s army lay waiting. Every day Richard had led his men in a charge against them, and every day they had beaten him back. This should have been over by now. But Richard’s men still kept coming.

Regina waited until Bernard finished his latest report - yet another sortie turned back, yet another offer for Richard to negotiate terms rejected.

“Why are we still here, General?” she demanded. “Why are we losing?”

“We aren’t losing, Ma’am,” he said pleadingly. “We just aren’t winning!”

“He should have turned tail and run days ago! Why is he still sitting there? I asked for an end to this Bernard. Why do I not have it?”

“Ma’am...with all due respect. I cannot end this if I am not able to pursue the enemy!”

“Bernard-” Regina said warningly, but he continued.

“He sits there, taunting us, and I am not allowed to cross the border!”

“Crossing the border would mean we are invading, General!”

“But do you not see Ma’am, that all he has to do is turn back across the border and I can do nothing! He has no reason to surrender!”

“They have stopped fearing us,” a young commander pointed out. “Every time we stop short and they escape with their lives, they grow bolder.”

“Let me use the siege weapons,” Bernard pleaded, not for the first time. “I will not have to leave our territory. I can crush them from this hillside!”

“I created those weapons for a different time, Bernard. We should have had them destroyed.”

“But you did not have them destroyed Ma’am, because you knew they could serve us well. And we need them now, to use in defence of our realm. Please Ma’am, if you will not let me engage the enemy, at least let me rain rocks and fire down on him.”

“There has to be another way, Bernard.” Now it was Regina’s turn to plead. She could not return to her son, or to Emma, knowing that she had authorised the harrowing and taking of innocent lives. Not unless she had no other options.

“We could withdraw,” said Hogarth, the commander who had spoken before.

“We do not retreat!” one of the generals blustered.

“A strategic retreat,” Hogarth countered. “Show them our backs. Let them think we are pulling our forces away.”

Bernard leaned forward, “And hope he takes the bait and follows?”

“They already think we are weak and cowardly,” the commander pointed out evenly. “Would it be so difficult for them to believe we would retreat?”

Bernard frowned as he considered their options. “A retreat with no loss would be suspicious. No. At the next sortie, we will allow them to win some ground. He will be more likely to believe it when we sound the retreat then. We’ll draw him back, into the pass. Hogarth, take two companies tonight, get them in place to defend the pass. We’ll draw them in, you close off the gap behind them, and we’ll crush them between us in the narrow ground.”

“We’ll take losses,” Regina said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, Ma’am.” 

“Wait Bernard.” She wanted to argue with him. Surely there had to be a way to end this conflict without anyone having to die. But before she could say anything, there was a commotion in the doorway. Someone was pushing their way through the canvas flaps, she could hear shouting outside and the excited whickering of horses. Her two guards drew their weapons as they moved to her side. Bernard and Rufus were on their feet, swords already drawn, and striding forward to block whoever was entering the tent.

Regina had also stood up, but surrounded as she was by hulking soldiers, all she could see of the intruder was a flash of yellow hair. She pushed her way past her guards, her heart dropping as her suspicions were proved true.

“Miss Swan!”

The woman stood in the doorway, hands on hips, and glared back at her.

“Really, Regina? A war?!”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina practices the art of fighting without fighting, and the two of them finally talk about some relatively important things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 'will you take me as I am' speech has been blatantly ripped off from the 2015 film. Which, fair go, is what started this entire thing off in the first place!

 

 

Regina had only been gone three days, but it felt like so much longer. Emma and Henry had stood at the castle doors to watch her ride away; she had been mounted on Rocinante, dressed in black with a red riding cape, and though she had smiled as she kissed Henry goodbye, when she handed him over to Emma, she noticed the smile had not reached Regina’s eyes. With Regina gone, the entire castle stilled and hushed, as though a blanket had fallen over them all. The staff spoke in whispers as they went about their daily business, their eyes lowered every time they walked past Emma. The stables and barracks had emptied out as half the royal guard had ridden escort to Regina, and those guards who were left behind did not drink their ale in the kitchens anymore, and did not joke in loud voices as they walked through the courtyards. 

Emma may have noticed the quiet more, may have grown concerned about the sense of gloom that pervaded the castle, if Henry had not been so sad. She had promised Regina she would care for him, so Emma made sure she was the first thing he saw in the morning. Henry was generally a happy baby, greeting every day with shining eyes and a big smile. The first morning of Regina’s absence, when Emma had tiptoed in to stand over his crib, he had smiled happily up at her. But when she’d lifted him up, he’d looked around as though searching for something, and when he hadn’t found his mother, he’d started to grizzle. He had stayed grumpy for the rest of the day, despite her and Gruff’s best efforts to distract and entertain him. By the time his bedtime had come around, with still no sight of Regina, he had started to wail, giving vent to furious, gulping sobs that had left him red-faced and Emma almost in tears. She’d had to rock him for an hour, walking him up and down the nursery, trailed by a whining Gruff, until exhaustion had finally won and Henry had calmed down enough to fall asleep.

He woke with a smile the next morning, but that soon faded when he caught no sign of Regina. The look he turned to Emma was one of such confusion and sadness, with his downturned mouth quivering, and frown lines between his eyes, and tears rolling down his cheeks, that she was quite sure she felt her heart break. She had spent every waking moment of his day with him, even taking him with her to the training yard where Captain Duncan had started teaching her how to use a sword. The serving woman she had entrusted to look after him had to be sure that Emma stayed in Henry’s line of sight, because when he couldn’t see her, he started wailing again. He’d clung tightly to her when she’d finished her lesson, and had only played half-heartedly with his toys, keeping one eye on her as he smashed his wooden blocks together in frustration. He’d fallen asleep curled into Gruff’s furry side.

The big dog was faring only slightly better than Henry. On her first night away, after Henry had finally fallen asleep and Emma had crawled into her own bed, he had looked everywhere for Regina, padding around her room and forcing his way into both her throne rooms, the council room, and any of the other places in the castle she frequented. He’d chosen to spend the night at Henry’s door, but when Emma had come alone to wake Henry in the morning, Gruff had whined and buried his face in his paws.

Emma had moved the crib into her own room for the second night. She’d read to Henry from the big book of laws Rufus had given her, to help her preparations to be sheriff, but even that hadn’t put him to sleep. He’d kept looking at the door every time someone walked by, and when he’d see just another serving woman, or guard, or butler, he would make a sad little whimper that made Emma long for the angry crying he had done the previous night. These quiet noises of distress made it seem too much like Henry was giving up hope of seeing Regina again. 

If Emma hadn’t been so focused on Henry she may have noticed that there were more people than usual walking by to glance into her rooms. But as it was, her attention was entirely on the sad little boy who was missing his mother. 

With Gruff trailing behind, Emma walked Henry around her rooms until he fell asleep in her arms. She placed him in his crib and continued pacing. This was ridiculous. Even though Regina hadn’t been gone that long, she could understand Gruff and Henry being so unhappy. There was no way for them to understand that Regina’s absence was only temporary. But Emma knew. She knew Regina would be back soon. So why was she feeling like this - as though a large part of her world was missing and nothing could fill the gap? She paused in front of two portraits - the only things she had taken with her when she had left her stepmother and stepsisters behind and allowed Regina to rescue her.

When she had left Richard’s castle, there hadn’t been much opportunity to pack; these portraits, still in their broken down old frames, were virtually the only things she had brought with her. All the gold Regina had sent with her was held in the royal coffers, and the jewelry locked safely away in the royal vaults. Emma had walked away from Richard with not much more than the clothes she was wearing, Gruff, and these mementos of her parents. She had tried to apologise to Regina for not being able to return her gifts, but the Queen had shrugged. 

“You brought what was important,” she had said. “Everything else is easily replaced.”

One evening, Emma had returned to her rooms to find the portraits had been carefully cleaned and reframed, and hung in pride of place on the wall by where she liked to sit and read. It had been such a Regina thing to do, to notice what was needed and just make it happen, without making a big show of it, or even telling Emma what she was thinking. Emma had gone stalking off to find the Queen, her emotions lurching between gratitude for the gesture and anger that she had not been consulted. But when she’d burst into Regina’s private throne room, the look on the Queen’s face had been so nervous that Emma’s emotional see-saw had fixed firmly on ‘gratitude’ and she had hugged Regina and said a broken thank you.

“You seemed upset,” Regina had said, the relief clear in her voice.

“You didn’t tell me.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise. We kept them though - the old frames. If you prefer, I can have the new ones replaced.”

Emma had laughed then and hugged Regina tighter. “No. No. They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

Emma reasoned a queen was more accustomed to giving orders than asking for permission. So being angry with Regina would be a bit like being angry with a dog for barking when a stranger entered the house - they were both only doing what came naturally to them, doing what they thought best. And it would be nice, to sit in her chair and be able to look up to see her parents watching over her. Even if it did mean that whenever she looked at the portraits, she thought also of Regina.

She was thinking of her now, as she stood in rooms so quiet she could hear Henry’s gentle breathing as he slept. Regina should be here, here with her family. Not on her own, who knew where in the world. Emma wondered if Regina missed them too. That she would be missing Henry there was no doubt. She’d possibly miss Gruff (Emma had noticed how Regina would absentmindedly scratch behind the dog’s ears when he sat at her feet, or slip him a scrap of food when she thought no one was looking). But was Regina missing _her?_ The fact that she hoped she was gave Emma pause. When had it started mattering to her that Regina enjoyed her company and sought her out? 

If she was being honest with herself, Emma knew that it had never stopped mattering; not from the first night she had met Regina, at the first of the Royal Balls in Richard’s castle. When she had been standing there, uncomfortable with all the attention, feeling hot and confined in the folds of the silk and lace she was unaccustomed to wearing. Regina had been so different from anyone else she had met that night. Where the other women had been soft and powdery, hiding their snideness behind fans and fawning laughter, the Queen had been all sharp edges and open hostility. But then Emma had said something, or done something, that had made Regina smile. A genuine smile. And her face had softened, and her eyes had grown warm, and it seemed as though Emma had opened a window to something so rare and precious it left her breathless. She had been chasing that feeling ever since, wanting more of it, even as she had fallen in love with a charming Prince. Or perhaps, even as she _thought_ she had fallen in love. Because Richard had never made her feel like this, had never made her long for his company until she felt it like a physical ache, like her heart had been hollowed out.

Emma did not understand how Regina could claim that she was not made for love, when it was so glaringly obvious just how much she was loved, especially by the people in this room. 

And there it was. For all her denials, for as much as she had resisted the whispers and allusions of the castle staff, for as often as she had kept Regina at arm’s length, for as hard as she had tried not to, Emma Swan had fallen in love with the Queen. 

Since her return to Regina’s realm she had been fighting against the notion that some unseen force would determine the ending of her story. She had been the dutiful daughter, the hardworking stepdaughter, the grateful godchild, the orphan who married the prince. Destiny had brought her to a happy ending, but then her story had kept going, and the happiness had not survived; at the first sign of challenge, it had revealed itself to be as substantial as a wisp of smoke. So, after years of doing what was expected of her, Emma wanted to take charge of her own life - to make her own choices rather than simply follow the path destiny had laid out for her. Any happiness she found along the way would be something she had earned and created for herself; perhaps if she crafted it with her own hands, it would be more real and last longer than the effects of a fairy’s magic.

She had tried to keep the life she was building separate from Regina’s, because she had wanted it to be her own, not something borrowed or imposed on her. And Regina had respected that - she had never demanded more than Emma was ready to give. She had stood close by, a harbour when Emma needed it, offering her a place of safety and comfort and warmth; Regina was steadfast, even when Emma would occasionally panic and pull away, as she had done the night she had kissed Regina’s cheek and promised to look after her and Henry. Emma had seen something flare in Regina’s eyes in that moment, a flash of the huntress and predator she knew Regina could be. But, as she had done so often before when Emma’s panic had risen, the Queen had stilled, dampening down the force of her reaction. It was the security of Regina’s stillness that had kept drawing Emma closer, causing their lives to intertwine so smoothly that she had barely noticed. And now here she was, not only in love with Regina, but also loving her son, and loving the idea of them all being together.

Emma sighed and looked up at her parents. She had lost one family, but now it seemed she may have the chance to be part of another. Two days without Regina had shown her she did not want to deny this anymore. She crept quietly back to the crib, careful to not wake Henry as she leaned over to kiss his cheek and make him a whispered promise.

“When she gets back, we’ll tell her that she’s not allowed to go away again. Okay? Not unless she takes us with her. She’s ours, and she belongs with us.”

And if she was very lucky, Regina felt the same way.

 

 

***

 

Henry still woke with a smile, even on the third day of waking to his mother’s absence. His day did not improve however, and he grew grumpier and slipped more easily into crying and tears as the day progressed. He clung to Emma, and it seemed her presence was the only thing that gave him some solace. 

It was not just his mother’s absence that made him so unhappy today. His newly emerging teeth were causing him particular distress. Emma had tried rubbing a finger along his gums, but it had not given him much comfort.

“My gran would give us cold carrots,” one of the ever-present serving women told her, as she handed over a dry cloth for Emma to wipe yet more drool from Henry’s face. “To scrub against our gums,” the woman explained when Emma had looked perplexed. “Raw ones. They’re just hard enough to soothe the pain, and if you get them from the root cellar, they’ll be cool enough too.” 

“Oh, that is a good idea!” Emma exclaimed.

The woman looked at her kindly. “Why don’t you go down to the kitchens, see if Cook has any? I’ll watch the Prince for a while.” 

Emma seemed to have endless reserves of patience when it came to Henry, but the woman had realised that she probably needed a break - and even a five minute conversation with Cook would be a welcome respite from wiping up more drool and listening to an unhappy baby grouse. 

Emma smiled gratefully and handed Henry over. She tried not to feel guilty as she walked away from him, his cries following her out of the door. She made her way to the kitchens, not noticing the quiet shadow she picked up as she left her rooms.

 

 

Emma pulled open the doors to one of the smaller kitchens. She could just make out the wooden table, around which sat Regina’s favourite cook, and Talia, drinking from large mugs. A younger woman was stirring a bubbling pot that stood over the fire. The women were talking, and Emma paused for a moment, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. 

A quiet voice behind her said “Miss Swan?”

Emma gasped and turned .

“Oh. Blanche.”

Because Blanche had virtually whispered when she had spoken her name, Emma found herself speaking just as quietly, so the women in the room behind her still had no indication of her presence.

Emma didn’t know Blanche very well. She knew the woman was on Regina’s council, and that Regina valued her opinion, even if she didn’t always follow her advice. But other than that, all she had was a vague impression of someone who stood on the periphery of any gathering, smiling as though she was enjoying a joke no one else had heard. 

“Are you well, Miss Swan?” 

Her voice was so low that Emma felt like she was being invited into a conspiracy. She found herself leaning forward to reply, but before she could speak, she heard Talia say Regina’s name. Her attention was drawn back to the kitchen, and she heard the tail end of Talia’s sentence.

“...Regina is evil.”

Emma stiffened, instantly opposing the juxtaposition of Regina’s name with that word. She could feel sudden anger rising from her belly, hot and insistent, ready to defend. All her attention was on the women’s conversation now, and she started to turn, but Blanche placed a hand on her arm, and shook her head.

“Wait,” she said quietly.

Cook was speaking, apparently responding to Talia’s comment. 

“They’re not thinking very hard then. If the Queen’s so evil, why has she not destroyed his army?”

“Are we really doing that badly?” asked the young woman stirring the pot.

“It appears so,” Talia said, “For some reason, she won’t let Bernard off his leash.”

“We know the reason,” Cook said darkly. “She’s trying so hard to be good-”

“Not much room for ‘good’ in a war,” Talia interrupted bitterly.

Emma had heard enough. She pulled free of Blanche’s arm and burst into the kitchen.

“Who’s at war?” she demanded.

The looks of horror at her sudden appearance may have been amusing under different circumstances.

“Tell me!” Emma demanded.

“Please, Miss Swan,” Cook spoke first. “There’s nothing to tell.”

Emma rounded on Talia, who sunk back in her chair. “Where is Regina?” 

Talia shook her head, “I’m sorry Miss Swan. I can’t say.”

“Is she at war?” A sudden realisation spread over her, bringing dread in its wake. “With Richard?”

The women were silent.

“Why won’t you tell me?!” Emma cried.

“Because the Queen has ordered us not to,” Blanche spoke from the doorway. The other women turned to her.

“Blanche!” Talia said warningly.

The spymaster shrugged. “She has a right to know. Yes, we are at war with King Richard.”

“But...she doesn’t want to be that…. She didn’t tell me.”

“No. She did not want you know.”

_“Why_ didn’t she tell me?”

“That is perhaps a question better asked of the Queen.”

Emma stared at Blanche. “You’re right. It is.”

She stormed out of the kitchen.

In the silence she left behind her, Talia glared at Blanche. 

The spymaster sighed. “Some things are worth a flogging.”

 

 

Emma had gone directly to the guard house, calling out for Captain Duncan.

He emerged warily.

“Do you know where the army is?” she demanded without preamble. 

“I’m not sure what you mean-”

“I know!” she shouted. “You don’t have to lie to me anymore! I know she’s at war! And you are going to bring me to her!”

“Miss Swan, please-”

“Fine, Captain. If you won’t, I’ll go on my own. If I have to ride across her entire realm to find her, I will!” 

She turned towards the stables.

“Miss Swan! Wait! You can’t...please,” he ran after her. “Not dressed like that!”

She stopped and looked down at herself. She was wearing one of Talia’s creations, a form-fitting silken sheath that fell to her ankles, with long flowing sleeves. Duncan was right; it would be difficult to sit a saddle in this dress, and the material would offer her very little protection against the weather. She growled and turned back towards the castle.

“I’m going to change,” she barked over her shoulder. “Saddle Spider.”

Behind her Duncan sighed in defeat. “Yes, Miss Swan.” He went back into the guard house to collect his gear and some supplies, then made his way to the stables to saddle two horses.

 

 

The only hurdle to her intentions was Henry.

He’d reached out for her as soon as she returned to her rooms, and when she held him, her turbulent emotions stilled, soothed by the feel of his sturdy little body against her chest, and the scent that was uniquely him. He smelled faintly of the lavender and vanilla that infused his bathwater, but underneath that was a delicate warmth that reminded her too closely of Regina. 

“I’m so sorry I’m leaving you,” she whispered into his ear. “But I have to bring her back to us.”

He had fallen almost instantly asleep, for which she was grateful, because she knew she could not have walked away from him if he’d been awake to cry at her leaving. She had promised she would take care of Henry, but bringing Regina safely home was taking care of him. He needed his mother, needed her whole and happy. And Emma needed that too. So she kissed his head and placed him in his crib, changed into riding clothes, ordered Gruff to ‘stay’ and ‘guard’, and left Henry to the care of a scared-looking serving woman. Duncan was waiting for her at the castle entryway, mounted and dressed for travel. She gave him a curt nod, climbed onto Spider’s back, and rode off behind the Captain.

 

 

They had made it to the narrow pass without incident, but then a patrol had suddenly surrounded them, and things may have gone a little badly for Duncan if Emma hadn’t pushed forward and demanded she be brought to the Queen. The patrol had escorted them to the camp in grim silence. Emma had watched with growing trepidation as they passed the soldiers, many of them sporting bloodied bandages as they sat around small fires; the paltry amount of smoke these fires produced did nothing to mask the stomach-churning stench of unwashed bodies and old blood that hung over the camp. The men huddled into cloaks of grey and brown, hoods raised so that she could not tell if she was looking at friends or strangers. They wore their weapons openly, and they carried far more than the single swords Emma had grown accustomed to seeing on the royal guard; there were axes, maces and halberds, bows and arrows - many of them showing signs of recent wear, with chipped wood, and blades rusty with dried blood. 

By the time they came to the tent where Regina was meeting with her war council, Emma’s throat was tight with apprehension and unshed tears. When she passed through into the tent, all she could see were armed men; men who loomed large and terrifying, armed even inside a place of shelter and with guards at their backs; men whose faces were grim and voices harsh. She could barely make out Regina where she sat at the table, surrounded as she was by hulking guards. She was enveloped in a rough cloak the same colour as her hair, her skin was ashen and eyes sunken. She wore no weapons. The sight of Regina’s vulnerability made Emma’s fear worse and her voice harsh, her concern for Regina’s safety emerging from her lips as a sarcastic accusation.

“Really, Regina? A war?!”

Regina pushed her way between her guards to stand in front of Emma.

“You shouldn’t be here Miss Swan!”

“I could say the same about you!” Emma shot back.

Regina’s eyes narrowed. She flicked a glare at Captain Duncan, who stood straighter and fixed his eyes at a point above Regina’s head, then she addressed the leader of the patrol who had escorted Emma and Duncan into the camp.

“How did they get here?”

“They came over the ridge line, your Majesty.”

“We were careful, Ma’am,” Duncan said earnestly.

“We saw them,” the patrol leader cut in. “I can’t say who else did.”

Regina turned back to Emma. There was no anger in her eyes; Emma wished there were. She could fight back against anger. But Regina looked almost fearful.

“Miss Swan, my guards will take you to my tent.”

“Regina-”

“Emma, please. Wait for me there. I will come to you soon.” 

She took off her cloak and handed it to her. 

“Put this on. With the hood up.”

Rufus stood forward, saying quietly, “In case Richard is watching the camp. We don’t want to give away details of who is who.”

Emma did not respond.

Rufus touched her arm lightly.

“Please Miss Swan?”

She hadn’t been listening to him because she had been watching Regina. The Queen had turned back to the table, beckoning her generals and commanders closer. Emma heard her say, “What will he do, if he knows she’s here?”

Bernard shrugged. “If his men find out, he will have to make a concerted assault. He’ll appear cowardly otherwise.”

Regina nodded decisively. 

“We will not be following through with the strategy of the retreat. Bernard, bring the siege weapons up. Let’s end this as soon as possible.”

“Yes Ma’am!”

Then Rufus placed his hand more insistently on Emma’s shoulder, tugging at it to turn her towards him.

“I do apologise, Miss Swan. But I think you should wait for her Majesty in her tent. As she asked,” he added pointedly.

She had asked. She hadn’t ordered. Even now.

Emma sighed, put the cloak on, covering her hair and pulling the hood forward to block her face, and followed Rufus out of the tent.

 

 

Regina’s tent was small and nondescript. It looked no different from the five other tents grouped around it. Inside, there were no luxuries; a wooden chair or two, a small table bearing a jug and bowl, a small bed that looked like not much more than a roll of blankets. 

Emma looked at Rufus in surprise.

“The Queen has always marched with her army,” he said, a faint smile on his face. “It surprises people sometimes. But she does not afford herself comforts that her men do not have.”

“Has she always done this?” Emma asked, still surprised. She did not doubt the Regina she knew now would think this way, but the Regina of even a year ago, that Regina had seemed to enjoy her creature comforts a little too well to sleep on the ground in a roll of blankets. Emma knew from first hand experience just how uncomfortable that could be. 

“Oh yes,” Rufus said. The smile on his face grew proud. “Always.”

“It was an easy way to win their loyalty,” Regina said, as she ducked into the tent. “If your soldiers think you share their suffering, they will suffer all the more for you.”

“Just as you say, Ma’am.” Rufus said.

“Thank you Rufus. That will be all.” 

She waited until he’d left the tent before turning to face Emma.

“What were you thinking Miss Swan?”

Emma just stared at her. She could could see nothing but the tiredness in her now; the bruised hollows under her eyes, the way the muscles of her face seemed to sag and her shoulders drooped, as though only sheer willpower was keeping her standing. There was a rough wariness in her voice, with not enough heat for anger. Even allowing for the fact that she wore low-heeled boots, she seemed smaller, faded, like a fire that had burned through its fuel and was starting to flicker out.

All Emma could think of to say was, “Henry misses you.”

She watched Regina’s face crumple, creasing into staring lines and lips pressed tightly together against trembling. She turned from Emma, but not soon enough to hide the tears that had sprung to her eyes.

“That is not fair-”

Emma crossed the space between them, threw her arms around Regina and pulled her tight against her body. Regina was nothing but tension and resistance, but Emma buried her face into the familiar curve of her neck. “I missed you too!” she hissed fiercely. 

She could feel her own tears dampen Regina’s skin, could feel the wariness in the Queen’s body start to ease a little. Regina drew a shuddering breath and turned just enough so she could lean her head against Emma’s shoulder.

Words of endearment bubbled to Emma’s lips, her heart beating out a rhythm that spelled ‘tell her’, until she could feel the need to declare her love vibrating under her skin. But she needed other answers first, so she bit back those words, and instead asked, “Why didn’t you tell me, Regina?”

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t” Her voice was flat. “You’d’ve asked me not to. And I would have had to say no. I didn’t want to say no to you.”

“Oh, Regina. Why a war though? Everyone says how hard you’re trying to not-”

Regina pulled away from her with so much force that she managed to break free of Emma’s tight hold, sending her stumbling back a few steps. 

“I did try!” She barked, the fading fire flaring briefly back to life. “I tried _everything!_ But Richard - he rejected all my offers of compromise. He attacked us, Emma!” Her voice was pleading now. “I had no choice. I have to defend my people!”

And Emma did understand. Regina was a queen - she had an entire realm to care for; one woman’s needs could not be given precedence over that. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should never have come.”

Regina’s face softened. “No, it’s all right. But we should get you to safety quickly. I’ll have a patrol readied, to escort you back to the castle.”

“No, Regina. I mean I should never have come to you, when I left Richard.”

“What are you talking about, Miss Swan. Where else could you have gone?”

“Anywhere but here, Regina. I have put you in an awful position. I am sorry. I should never have come.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You belong here.”

“Me being here is putting at risk everything you have tried to do, all the changes you have tried to make. You’re giving up on all of that - for me.”

“No. Emma. This war, this is not your fault. Richard - he chose to march against me. This is on him, Emma. Not you.”

“But you wouldn’t be in this position if I hadn’t come to you. We both know this.”

“Emma-”

“I’m going to him.”

“You are _not!”_ Regina reached out and grabbed Emma’s arm with bruising strength. 

Emma placed a gentle hand on Regina’s wrist. She did not try to pull the Queen’s hand away.

“I am not going back to him, Regina. I only want to talk to him.”

Regina’s grip loosened a little, but she still held on to Emma’s arm.

“You have already talked to him,” she ground out. “He wasn’t that keen on listening.

“It will be different this time,” Emma replied. 

“What is so different now?”

“I didn’t have you harming yourself to help me, Regina! You’re risking so much.I have to get him to see reason. I will get him to stop, to turn back.”

“If you think I’m going to just stand idly by and watch you carry out this idiotic plan! It’s not even a plan! It’s nothing but a suggestion of action! And it is _ridiculous!”_ Regina’s eyes flashed with anger, her voice was a growl.

“How are you going to stop me? Throw me in chains?” Emma snapped back.

“If I have to!”

“Fine. Do it. Order your men to arrest me and chain me to a tree!” 

She pulled her arm free and strode towards the entryway.

“Emma!”

Emma pushed her way through the tent flap, then paused for a moment to get her bearings. The men of the patrol had taken Spider from her when they’d dismounted outside the planning tent, and she wasn’t sure where to find her horse now.

Regina came bursting out of the tent behind her.

“Miss Swan, I forbid you to leave this camp!”

Emma glared at her. “You have an entire army at your beck and call. Why aren’t I in chains already? You can’t do it, can you? Because you know I will never forgive you! Now, if you’re done giving me orders, I have to go find my horse.”

“You really are the _most_ infuriating, smug...Fine. Fine! Rufus!”

For a moment Emma believed that she had pushed her too far and Regina was going to order her arrest. She looked quickly around for the best direction to run. 

But when Rufus appeared, seemingly out of nowhere as usual, Regina clenched her teeth and said, “Tell Bernard to hold the siege weapons until further notice. Miss Swan is _foolishly_ going to try to talk to King Richard. And her foolishness must be contagious, because I am allowing her to go.”

“Ma’am?” Rufus asked incredulously. 

“Surely we have such a thing as a flag of parley with us?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Send a runner out to arrange it then. Miss Swan will be escorted, Rufus - make sure these men are prepared to fight their way out.”

“Yes, Ma’am. We’ll send our best.”

“Regina-”

“No arguments Emma. If you are going to put your life at risk, you aren’t going alone. I will be with you.”

“Richard won’t hurt me, Regina! He is a good man, really. He can be reasoned with.”

“He brought an army to my borders, Emma. You will forgive me if I send you to him bearing a shield.”

 

 

Richard had insisted that Emma be brought to his camp. The largest concession he made was to relocate his tent to the outskirts of his camp, closer to the border. Regina had acquiesced with bad grace, because Emma would not let her refuse.

“At least he’s willing to hear me out!” Emma had said.

Bernard and Rufus had exchanged a worried look. 

“Or he could be planning something, Miss Swan. We must allow for that possibility too.”

But in the end, Regina had agreed to let Emma walk virtually into the mouth of their enemy’s den.

Eight soldiers went with her. They ranged in size from muscle-bound mountains who carried broadswords and maces, to small wiry warriors, armed with bows and short stabbing spears. They surrounded Emma as she rode Spider towards Richard’s camp. Emma went unarmed and wore only her riding clothes, but her escort had on armoured jerkins and greaves, and wore helmets with long nose guards and curving cheek pieces that cast their faces into shadow, leaving only their glaring eyes and grim mouths visible.

Richard’s men allowed only two guards into the tent with her, choosing the two smallest of her escort, and relieving them of their weapons before they entered the tent. Bernard had expected this, and his soldiers were prepared, some staying mounted and ready to whisk Emma away, while the others placed themselves so they could storm the tent in a hurry and drag her out if needs be.

Inside, the tent was much like Regina’s planning tent - with a table surrounded by chairs, and armed men in various positions of comfort, from those who lounged back against cushions to those who stood rigidly at attention along the canvas walls. Richard himself was sitting in a large chair, leaning eagerly forward, facing the entryway. He was dressed for war, with a sword and dagger at his hip, and a spear planted in the ground by his side. He had a large goblet in one hand, and he had been taking a drink when Emma walked into the tent, flanked by her two escorts. He put the goblet down and smiled; his teeth were stained red with wine.

“So, she’s finished with you has she? She’s returning you to me?”

“No, Richard. I wanted to come.”

“Hah. Good. You’ve learned your lesson then.”

He hadn’t taken his eyes off her once, not even to glance down at his goblet as he lifted it to his mouth to take another draught. 

“I’ve come to try to get you to see reason, Richard.”

“Reason?” he snarled. “The only thing that makes sense in all of this is you admitting you were wrong, and coming home.”

“That is not what I want, Richard.”

“Then why are you here?! If you aren’t crawling back to me-”

“I came for Regina!” Emma shouted, immediately regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth. 

Richard leapt to his feet, and Emma felt the escort who stood at her right take a step forward. She held up an arm, keeping her guard back. Her escort had been disarmed, and she didn’t want to see anyone bleed, or die, in her name. 

The king stayed behind the table, but his voice filled the tent.

“What is this hold the sorceress has on you?”

“There is no hold, Richard! She is only trying to help me, because she is my friend!”

“Some friend,” Richard scoffed. “You were rivals not so long ago. Or have you forgotten, my dear, how she came sniffing around me? Just like you did.”

“Regina never wanted you,” again Emma regretted the words. But Richard’s demeanour was unsettling her. He looked at her with fevered eyes, and the red stains around his mouth and down his uniform front made her nervous; the sneer that curled his lip every time he spoke of Regina made her angry. Her responses were more antagonistic than she wanted them to be, but she could not stop herself from defending Regina. 

“I think you are mistaken, my dear. But that is besides the point. Once I have defeated her, I will make her rue the day she ever set foot in my kingdom.”

Emma started to laugh then. 

“You think you can defeat her?”

The captain of Richard’s royal guard spoke, “What do you know, your Majesty. What can you tell us of Queen Regina’s plans?”

“Nothing,” Emma responded truthfully. “I don’t know anything, except that she’s been holding back.”

Richard laughed, and Emma continued angrily. 

“She hasn’t wanted to hurt you, Richard. She’s given you any number of chances to end this, but you haven’t! And she’s at the end of her patience now. She is going to crush you.”

“When you say crush-” the Captain broke in.

“You do know who she is, don’t you? Do you really think you have seen the worst of her? She has been letting you live! But she’s had enough of you - of Richard refusing to accept that I don’t want him. She is going to destroy you all.”

Others among Richard’s advisors had started murmuring urgently.

“I said Regina’s army had a fearsome reputation!”

“I told you all, this was too easy! It’s been a trap all along!”

The Captain approached Emma, “Is it true, you do not want to return home, your Majesty?” His voice was deep and powerful, and it stilled the other fear-filled conversations.

Emma nodded. “I don’t love Richard anymore.” 

She remembered this man. He had been at Richard’s side when she had tried on the glass slipper that sealed her fate. He had struck her as an honourable man, and he looked at her now with growing horror in his eyes.

“But...yours was true love.”

“No, Captain. I think we both hoped it was. But the truth is, I haven’t loved Richard for a long time now. I asked him to let me go but-”

“Lies!” Richard roared. He flung the goblet from him, the wine leaving the cup in a long arc that splashed across the table. “She is lying! The sorceress has put a spell on her!”

“No, she hasn’t,” Emma said quietly, her gaze fixed on the Captain. “I do not want to be married to Richard any more. Regina has been trying to get him to see that. Nothing more.”

The Captain looked into her eyes for a long moment. He sighed, but then squared his shoulders and nodded at her. He turned to face Richard.

“Sire, please, you know I would fight to the bitter end to defend your true love. But this - this cannot be true love. Not if Queen Emma says she no longer feels it.”

“And Regina has lured us into a trap. If your marriage is over, we are the aggressors here!” A panicked looking General spoke urgently. “Regina is only guilty of offering the Queen sanctuary. None will blame her for destroying us completely!”

“She is my wife!”

“Your Majesty, she is your wife because the kingdom believed you both to share true love! If this is not the case...your people will be less supportive of this war.”

“There may be none of us left alive to hear their objections!” cried the panicked General. “We all know what Regina is capable of. We’ve heard the stories. We’ve seen the smoking craters she has made of once-thriving kingdoms.”

“If you turn back now, she will not harm you any further,” Emma told him. 

“Sire!” the General cried to the King, “We should retreat. Now. This is folly, Sire. To risk your men’s lives in this ill-omened adventure.”

Richard was clutching at the table top, his eyes burning with a manic lightas he glared around the room. He had bared his teeth in a snarl. He looked on the very edge of madness.

“Sire, please.” The Captain tried to soothe him. “Listen to me. As your friend, I want nothing but your happiness. But I no longer think that your happiness lies with Emma Swan. Let her go, Sire. Please. There are any number of women in the world who will be glad to be your wife. We will find all of them. You will have your pick.”

The King stared at him.

“What if I order you to attack, old friend? If I order you to bring me the sorceress’s head?”

“Sire, you know I love you better than a brother. But I will not obey that order. You may take my head, your Majesty. But I will not continue this war.”

Richard threw his head back and laughed. It did not last very long. When he lowered his head, the madness seemed to have gone out of his eyes, to be replaced with a calm coldness.

“It is over, then,” he said, his voice icy. He glanced at Emma. “Go. Go back to her. We are done.”

Emma felt her body sag with relief as the tension went out of her; it left her brain befuddled for a few moments as she decided what to do next. She was just starting to turn, to leave the tent, when Richard spoke again. But he was addressing her escort. 

“Take a message to your Queen from me. Tell her, she has lost everything too.”

And he grabbed his spear and flung it with all his might, directly at Emma.

Her escort reacted with impossible speed, reaching forward and snatching the spear out of the air moments before it buried itself in Emma’s back. Then, in a puff of purple smoke, the guard had moved across the tent, materialised in front of Richard, took him by the throat and lifted till his feet dangled off the ground. 

“Regina!” Emma screamed.

Richard’s men started to react, but Regina waved a hand and they all dropped to the ground, unconscious. 

Emma hurried across the tent.

“Regina,” she said again, more softly. She did not dare touch her yet.

Regina had pushed back her helmet so Richard could see her face. She was snarling, her eyes filled with almost as much madness as his.

“You tried to kill her!”

She shook him like a dog would a rat. He made a gurgling sound, his hands scrabbling desperately at her fingers as they crushed into his throat.

“Regina, please,” Emma begged. “Don’t do this.” She placed her hand on Regina’s bicep, feeling the muscle twitch and flex as she shook Richard again.

“He tried to kill you.”

“I know. He was angry. You saw. He was defeated. He knew it. He was just lashing out.”

“He is not a child, Emma. Kings should not throw tantrums.” She shook him again.

“I was never in any danger, Regina. You were right here the whole time. You wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

Richard was choking and gasping for breath. Regina left him just enough room to draw a few painful gulps of air into his lungs. But her hold on his throat was relentless.

“He tried to kill you.”

“And you’re trying to kill him. Please Regina, don’t.”

Regina turned her snarl on Emma.

“And what if I do, Miss Swan. What if I take the miserable life of this coward, who would strike a woman in the back? What will you do? Will you walk away from me? Will you leave me too?”

Emma’s face paled. She stared into Regina’s furious eyes, and saw the truth there. The Queen was angry enough to kill. But it wasn’t that knowledge that made the chill run through her; no, it was because she knew the answer to Regina’s question, and it scared her. Even if she watched Regina crush the life out of Richard, it wouldn’t change how she felt about her. She may weep about it, and do everything in her power to keep Regina from ever being that angry again, but she would not fear her, or love her any less.

“I won’t leave you,” Emma said brokenly, unable to do anything but tell Regina the truth. “I can’t.” She let the tears fall, but she kept her eyes on Regina.

She saw the fury turn to confusion, saw the burn of madness die, to be replaced by a familiar warm concern. “I could kill him,” Regina whispered. “For what he’s done to you. He deserves to die.”

Emma said nothing.

“You’d really stay?”

Emma nodded.

Regina groaned. “You aren’t making this easy, Miss Swan.” She glared at Richard. His eyes had started to roll back in his head. His gasping breaths were fewer and further between. He had stopped scrabbling at Regina’s hand, his arms now hung limply by his sides. Regina sighed and opened her fingers. Richard slumped to the ground, unconscious before his head hit the dirt.

Emma hugged her, but before she could say or do anything else, Rufus spoke from the entryway. He had been the other member of her escort who had been allowed into the tent. As soon as Regina had knocked Richard’s men out, Rufus had slipped out of the tent to warn his men to be ready to leave. He was coming back in now to report to Regina what he had seen.

“Pardon me for interrupting, your Majesty. Everyone out here, except for our own men, are lying unconscious on the ground. Much like in here.” He glanced around the tent at the inert bodies.

“What did you do to them?” Emma asked.

“Nothing. Nothing much. It’s a sort of sleeping spell. They’re just...taking an enforced rest.”

“And when they wake up?” Rufus asked.

Regina shrugged. “They’ll have taken no harm. Other than having a very nice nap.”

“If Bernard were here, he’d say to take this opportunity to slit all their throats,” Rufus said conversationally.

Regina’s eyes glinted and Emma looked horrified.

“Wouldn’t that be something, Rufus? An entire army decimated by a squad of 8 men.”

“It would certainly be written down in all the great histories.”

Regina glanced at Emma and grinned. “Don’t worry Miss Swan. I’m just thinking about it.”

Emma huffed at her, and Regina laughed. “Actually, now that I am thinking about it, I have a much better idea.”

She stood in the centre of the room and started to make an incantation, twisting her hands through a series of complicated gestures as she chanted. A purple mist formed around her growing taller and darker until her body was completely enveloped and Emma couldn’t make out where Regina stood. Then the mist started flowing outwards, touching at each sleeping man’s head, lingering for a moment before dissipating in a small shower. The unconscious men started to twitch and jerk, but their eyes stayed closed.

One of Regina’s men stuck his head in the tent. “It’s a bit strange out here, Ma’am. This purple mist just sort of washed over everyone. Now they’re jumping around like they’ve got fire ants in their drawers...all the sleeping beauties I mean. Not us. We’re fine.”

“Good. Thank you. Will you escort Miss Swan back to camp, please?”

“Regina-”

“These men are going to wake up soon, Emma. And Rufus and I are going to negotiate their surrender. I would prefer you weren’t here; it may make things...difficult...with Richard.”

“What have you done to them?” Emma demanded.

“Nothing much. Really. I’ve just given them a few dreams.”

“What kind of dreams?” Emma asked suspiciously.

Regina grinned an evil grin, one that Emma would admit to missing only under great duress. When Regina smiled like this in the past, it generally heralded some quite nasty things happening to people. And Emma had to admit that Richard and his men likely deserved whatever punishment Regina devised.

“The kind of dreams,” Regina explained, “where they are going to wish they had never fallen asleep. I have placed memories in their heads, Miss Swan, of the great battle I brought against them. I have filled their minds with images of demons and imps and goblins and dragons, and all manner of wondrous creatures who would tear their heads off just so they could spit down their necks. They are going to remember the trolls playing football with their best friend’s head, they will feel the burn of dragon’s breath every time they get too close to a fire - some of them are going to be _very_ cold this winter.”

“Regina, that sounds cruel. Why would you-“

“Because every time they think of me, they will remember. They will remember how close they came to being roasted alive over a goblin’s fire, or how the imps fought to see who would pull the teeth from their mouths while they cooked.”

“Regina!”

“You understand that I can make all these things happen, don’t you? But I am choosing to leave them memories instead. So that every time they think of me, or my realm, they will wet themselves in fear. If anyone in Richard’s kingdom ever so much as mentions aggression against us again, every man now lying sleeping will remember how cursed they were for being here today. The scars will not show on their bodies, but they will run deep. They will never take up arms against us again, no matter how hard they are pressed.”

“Only if they think of attacking you?”

“Yes, Emma. I won’t leave them gibbering fools.”

“Okay. I suppose you could do worse to them.” 

Regina’s snort of laughter, and the light it brought to her eyes, made Emma smile. A few hours ago Regina had been ready to order the use of massive weaponry against her foes. Bad dreams and terrifying memories were the better option. At least Richard and his army would walk away from here whole and relatively unharmed, and if they left Regina and her people alone, then they would suffer nothing further than the embarrassment of losing a war. 

“Thank you, Regina,” she said, deciding that this was not the right time to follow that up with the ‘I love you’ that was never far from her thoughts now. She’d wait until they were alone, until Rufus wasn’t at Regina’s shoulder asking questions about what her terms would be, and there wasn't a group of soldiers waiting for her to mount up so they could escort her to safety.

 

 

Emma stood alongside General Bernard and the rest of the military council. They were waiting for Regina and Rufus to return. Bernard had wanted to send a battalion down to the camp, as he feared for Regina’s safety when she only had Rufus for a guard. But Emma had told him about the memories Regina had planted in the enemy’s mind, and though he had been skeptical, he had held his peace. He had to admit that Regina’s strategy was a good one though; as Richard’s army woke, they could hear their wails of fear. Soon Richard’s camp started emptying out, his men breaking ranks and fleeing away from the border. There was nothing dignified or systematic about their retreat. It was as though they had just suffered a great rout and were fleeing the field of battle in disarray. Bernard stood with his hands on his hips and laughed, his body shaking as his roars of laughter rolled out across the hillside.

Regina’s army cheered, crying her name in victory.

“This is a great day, Miss Swan!” Bernard boomed at her. “A wondrous day! We serve a magnificent Queen!” He looked back out at the quickly disappearing enemy and laughed again. “Look at them run, Miss Swan!”

His happiness was contagious, and Emma found herself laughing along with him.

 

 

When Regina and Rufus re-entered the camp, a great cheer went up. Regina looked surprised, but pleased with it.

She dismounted before her advisors, her gaze fixed on Emma. She had removed the helmet and armour that had helped conceal her identity from Richard’s troops. Now she was dressed like a regular soldier, in hardy leather trousers with a linen shirt and padded leather jerkin. But there was no doubt that she was the Queen, and victorious. The tiredness and vulnerability Emma had seen in her before had disappeared, replaced by a confident swagger as she walked over and handed Bernard a scroll.

“The documents of surrender,” she said. 

Bernard looked through the scroll; it wasn’t a very long piece of parchment. He looked incredulous.

“Is that all, Ma’am? One paltry piece of property?”

“There is nothing else Richard has that I want.” Regina’s gaze was still on Emma; she felt the warmth rush to her face and when Regina smiled, she knew that she had flushed red under her scrutiny.

“But, they invaded us Ma’am! We should have asked for more! There are two gold mines along this border that would be a valuable asset.”

Regina sighed and finally looked away from Emma. 

“As I said, Bernard, there is nothing Richard has that I want. And if it’s gold you’re after, I assure you, put me across the table from him, and we will have his gold.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He grinned wolfishly. “That might be quite fun actually.”

“Bernard,” Regina said chidingly, but her wide grin belied the reproach. “Will you see to it that Richard is escorted safely home. I wouldn’t want him getting lost along the way.”

“Yes, Ma’am. It would be my pleasure.”

Regina looked at Emma again, a faint smile on her face. 

“Shall we take the short way home, Miss Swan?”

 

 

Regina’s magic carried them back to the castle, directly into Henry’s nursery. The two serving women who were playing with him on the carpet yelped in surprise when they materialised. Gruff bayed joyfully when he saw them, but Emma stepped forward to intercept him, bending to hug him around the neck, so Regina had the chance to go first to Henry.

He stared up at her, in her rough soldier’s garb; Regina’s face was cautious and guarded as she approached her son. He stood up to meet her, and held his arms out to her. A wide smile broke across his face, although the sounds he made were a combination of laughing and crying. He repeated the word ‘Mam’ over and over again as he scurried across the floor to her. Emma heard Regina sob. She swept Henry up into a hug, holding him to her fiercely. His arms went around her neck and he clung to her just as tightly.

Emma watched them for a few moments, then gave in to her own need. She went overand hugged Regina, holding Henry too. Regina turned so she could lean back against Emma, tucking her head under her chin; Emma shuffled backwards, drawing an unprotesting Regina with her, until they could all sit on one of the couches. Emma held Regina against her as Henry sat up and started babbling at his mother. He climbed down off her knee, but only went so far as to drag his book back to her. Regina laughed and picked him up again, book and all, and started reading to him, pausing occasionally to kiss the top of his head. Henry curled into Regina’s body, and Emma’s arms circled protectively around them both. Gruff sat on the floor besides them, his head taking up the half of Regina’s lap not occupied by their son. 

_ 'Our son'. _

Emma tasted the words in her head. There was a rightness to them that gladdened her heart and scared her at the same time. The idea that Henry could be hers as much as he was Regina’s; that he would feel about Emma the same as he did for Regina; that Regina would trust Emma to love and protect Henry with the same fierceness she did. She’d have to talk to Regina about this feeling. Soon. But that could wait a little longer. Regina needed this time with Henry. So for now Emma would content herself with being allowed this far into their lives. She was not ready to risk asking for more. She sighed and let herself sink into the sound of Regina’s voice and the steady weight of her family against her body. 

 

***

 

The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the large cottage. 

Regina emerged from the carriage, Henry in her arms; two serving women climbed down behind her. Rufus, who had ridden alongside as part of their escort, dismounted and started helping to offload the carriage of picnic baskets and rugs and all the myriad toys Henry had brought with him for the afternoon.

Regina let the bustle carry on behind her as she stood looking at the house. It was a charming building, made of yellowed stone, with high gables and dormers, and arched windows set into the facing wall. Ivy and other flowering vines grew along the eaves, and the house was set in a flourishing garden. The effect was one of peaceful contemplation, as though the cottage was a natural extension of the verdant countryside. It had to be said that the peaceful effect was somewhat spoiled by the herd of geese that ran honking past, chased by a squawking flock of chickens.

Henry squealed in delight, and squirmed to be set down. With Gruff in tow, he went chasing after the poultry, a serving woman clucking behind them both like a large mother hen.

Regina’s eyes tracked after them and she caught sight of Emma Swan.

She had obviously been doing something that required physical exertion. Her hair had been pulled back into an untidy braid; she wore a sleeveless blue tunic, with a wide leather belt around her waist; her trousers were tucked into knee-high leather boots, and she held an axe slung casually across her shoulder. Emma had always been strong; years of being the only domestic labourer for three demanding women had given her a well-developed musculature, which weeks of training in sword and combat had only accentuated.

She waved shyly when she saw she had caught Regina’s eye, thudded the axe into a log of wood, and walked over to her.

Regina felt suddenly and unaccountably bashful in her presence. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen Emma’s arms before; there was no reason for her to feel so flustered. Her nervousness made her speak very formally.

“Is everything going as planned, with the house?”

Emma smiled broadly at her. “Oh yes, Regina. It’s coming along very nicely.”

Regina was glad. It had been the one thing she had asked of Richard - Emma Swan’s childhood home. It hadn’t taken very complex magic to scoop the house and its surrounding grounds out of Richard’s kingdom. She hadn’t cared that she had left a deep crater that would never heal. She hoped Richard would look often at this angry scar in his land and remember.

She had taken more care when she had brought the cottage to her own realm, making sure to lay it gently into the earth, making room for it and blending the edges until you couldn’t tell where Emma Swan’s lands ended and Regina’s began.

She had placed the house on the outskirts of Castlebrook, close enough to her castle that it was an easy ride or leisurely stroll away, but secluded enough that Emma did not feel like she was watching her every move. The house had not been as Emma had remembered it - Lady Tremaine and her daughters had been malicious with it after they had so terribly failed to win the hand of Prince Richard. Regina would have had the three women thrown into the deepest dungeon, but Emma had asked for leniency, as Regina had known she would. Emma had been appointed sheriff of Castlebrook, and she used the fees paid her to set the three women up in a small home, and to find a healer to treat her step-sisters’ mutilated feet. She had set only one condition - that they never try to contact her again.

Emma had little time to think about her stepfamily. She was working hard to restore her home; she had refused Regina’s offer of magical assistance, and Regina had understood. The work was slow and difficult, but at the end of it, Emma would have something she had made for herself. For her part, Regina had been caught up in all the post-war formalities, not least of which included assuring other neighbouring kingdoms that she was not about to unleash a tide of demons on them all. Her diplomatic skills were pushed to the limit daily, and she needed Rufus to remind her that cursing everyone with nightmares would cause more problems in the long run than it would solve. 

Both women still found time to spend with Henry, and he was as likely to be seen running around Emma’s gardens as he was to be in the castle grounds. Emma showed up to the castle every night for his bedtime ritual, and he fell asleep with both Emma and Regina watching over him. Regina looked forward to these times, when it was the three of them together. And when Henry fell asleep, they would leave him under Gruff’s watchful care, and she would take Emma walking in the castle gardens. Many times she felt that Emma was on the verge of saying something, something more momentous than remarks about the beauty of the moonlight or the scent of the rose bushes and apple blossoms. But something always seemed to hold her tongue, and their conversation would turn to other, more mundane, matters - like negotiations with foreign kings, and how strange it was that Widow Peep’s sheep would so often escape her grazing area and end up in Farmer Blue’s fields.

Today was the first time Regina had made it out to Emma’s home. They were going to make an afternoon of it; Cook had been tasked with preparing a picnic which they would eat somewhere in Emma’s gardens and Regina was going to get her first look at the fruits of Emma’s labours. 

“Do you want to see the house?” Emma asked.

Even though that was ostensibly why she was here, Regina shook her head. She remembered the last time she’d been in the house; she remembered too clearly how frightened Emma had looked, and how angry she had become as she had uncovered the torment and degradation Emma’s life had been. She was in no hurry to revisit those rooms. She would walk through them eventually, with Emma at her side, her bright voice pointing out the nooks and crannies of her childhood memories. She knew Emma well enough to know that she would only focus on the happier times - the few that she did remember. Regina found it to be one of Emma’s most endearing qualities, her ability to take the worst that the world could throw at her, find the good in it, and forgive the rest. Regina knew this was a skill she herself had the capacity to deploy only in a few instances, and she was not ready to confront the memory of Lady Tremaine. There could be no forgiveness granted there.

“Can we walk for a while? I think I need the sunlight.”

Emma nodded, “Of course,” and proffered her arm.

Regina linked her arm through Emma’s and allowed her to lead her. Emma pointed out features of the garden, particularly the vegetable patch, where several pumpkins were growing proudly. Regina snorted at that.

“Some things never change,” she murmured drily.

Emma grinned. “I’ve not seen any sign of fairy godmothers.” Then her face grew serious. “I want to thank you, Regina, for everything you have given me.”

“Oh no, Miss Swan. Everything you have, you have earned on your own merit.”

“That’s not entirely true, Regina, and you know it.”

“I am not your fairy godmother! I didn’t wave a wand and create all this for you. I may have given you an opportunity, but you made this happen, Sheriff Swan. You. Never let anyone allow you to believe differently.”

Emma stared at her feet, her face flushing. When she looked up again, Regina noted there was a new determination in her face. But before she could say anything, they heard peals of Henry’s laughter, followed closely by Gruff’s baying bark. They turned automatically to watch - Henry sat astride Gruff’s back, hanging on to the fur of his neck, while Gruff loped gently after some chickens. One of the royal guards was jogging alongside, a hand raised to grab Henry if he should start to slip.

Regina sighed, her smile faded. 

Emma watched her for a moment, then tugged on her arm to lead her across a rickety fence and into an open grass field which had recently been harvested for hay; the rich smell of drying grass filled the air. Emma kept leading her forward until they came to a slight dip in the land, where an old cart stood, its bed filled with new hay. They may have stood in an open field, but this spot seemed private, as though their entire world had been reduced to this little, sweet-smelling, cleft in the earth.

“Why do you look so sad?” Emma asked gently.

Regina’s mouth thinned and twisted into a self-deprecating smile. 

“I’m worried about Henry.”

“What about him?”

“I see him here running around, and I can’t help thinking what if he decides he wants to be a farmer, or a sheriff, when he grows up?”

“What's wrong with being a sheriff?” Emma demanded.

“Henry is my son and heir, Miss Swan. He is destined to be king!”

“And what if he doesn’t want to be a king, Regina? Are you going to make him?” She spoke very carefully, trying to keep any emotion of out her voice.

“No, of course not,” Regina sighed. “But it is very difficult when you make everything seem so much fun - long meetings and endless paperwork simply can’t compare to hunting down ‘bad men’ and rolling around in the mud.”

She knew she was pouting, but she couldn’t help herself. Part of her concern was genuine, but she also enjoyed watching Emma’s face when she curled her lip into a pout; the Sheriff’s gaze had fixed on her mouth, and she looked as though she had never wanted to kiss anyone so much ever in her life.

Then Emma looked up into Regina’s eyes and grinned; her face alight with impudence, she said, “Well, you know there is something you can do about that, Regina.”

“Oh?”

“You could always give Henry some brothers and sisters. Then, even if some of them want to be sheriffs or farmers or whatever, at least there’ll be a chance that one of them may want to be King. Or Queen.”

Her grin widened, and Regina huffed in exasperation.

“You think you’re so incorrigible, Miss Swan. But I’ll have you know, I have thought about it.”

“What?” Emma squeaked.

“More children. Not just to hedge my bets on having an heir who actually wants the throne. I’ve been thinking, it would be nice, to have another child, or two.”

“Really?” Emma’s face had melted into a warm puddle of emotion. She gazed at Regina with a look of devotion that made the Queen’s chest tighten. Before she realised what was happening, Emma had grasped her at the waist and lifted her onto the back of the cart, then vaulted up to sit next to her. “That would be wonderful. I’d love to see you with a baby.”

“You see me with Henry all the time,” Regina protested.

“I missed his first months with you,” Emma pointed out, not unreasonably. “I’d like to be there for that. I could help.”

“You help with Henry.”

“He’s wonderful, and I love him dearly. And I want to be there for his brothers and sisters too.”

“Miss Swan-” She had to say something. She had to ask what this meant. There was more at stake here than her own feelings. Emma was now talking about her son, and any future children, as though she wanted to be part of their lives - as though that were her right and due. And as much as Regina wanted that too, she had to be sure of what Emma was feeling. She tried to think of a gentle way to ask, so that she didn’t scare the other woman.

But Emma was forging ahead. She took Regina’s hands in her own, gazed fearlessly into her eyes, and spoke.

“Regina, I am no princess, I have no dowry, anything of any worth I own in this world, I owe to you.” 

Regina made to protest, but Emma silenced her, saying, “Please, let me finish. I don’t know if what I feel for you is true love, or just an ordinary every day love, but I do know that I love you. And I can think of nothing that will ever make me stop. I have nothing else to offer you, but that. Will you accept me, just as I am? A simple farmer, and a sheriff still learning her trade, but one who loves you?”

“Oh Miss Swan,” Regina said, her lips trembling. She cupped her hand around Emma’s cheek, watched Emma’s eyes flutter shut as she leaned into her touch. “There is nothing ordinary or simple about you.” She took a deep breath and Emma looked at her, waiting patiently for her to speak further.

“I must ask you the same thing - will you accept me as I am? But this is a much more difficult request to grant than yours. I have done terrible things, Emma. I have hurt countless numbers of people. I try, everyday, to make amends for my past. It is not easy. But I strive. And yes, I love you. But I must ask, will you accept me, knowing that there is so much darkness still in me?”

Emma grinned. “Thank you for mentioning you love me.”

“Miss Swan, I think it is fairly obvious that I love you. If you had been paying even the slightest amount of attention-” She broke off and glared at the still grinning woman. “Oh, you are impossible. Will you answer my question?”

“Which one?”

“Emma.”

“Regina, if you had been paying the slightest amount of attention, you would have noticed that I accepted you from the very beginning. Even before I knew that I loved you.”

“That doesn’t really mean anything, Emma. You are so forgiving of _everyone.”_

“Regina, I assure you. I’ve seen how bad you can be, and I am still here. I love you, and I trust you when you say you strive, and I want, more than anything, to be with you, and to raise our children-”

“Our?”

“Yes, our. And yes, children. Plural. I think we should have at least three more-”

“Miss Swan. Stop being ridiculous.”

“I’m not-”

Regina kissed her. It was the only way to keep her quiet really. It was for the good of all concerned.

Emma grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back to lie in the hay, rolling them over so she was on top. She did not break their kiss.

They had to come up for air eventually, but Emma kept pressing kisses along the column of her throat and along her exposed clavicles. Regina found she could not stop running her hands up and down Emma’s bare arms.

“Stay,” Emma whispered. 

“Hmm?” Her fingers were tracing along a ridge of hard muscle under soft skin, and the contrast was most distracting.

“Stay. Stay here, with me, tonight.”

“Do you mean here, on this cart?” Regina asked, incredulous.

Emma nodded.

“We have an entire castle at our disposal! Why would we-”

“I want to make love to you under the stars.”

“I have three solariums in the castle. I can put a glass ceiling into my bedroom if you prefer that. Why would you want to spend our first night together here?!”

“Because I want it to be just us. No castles or crowns or sheriff shields. Just Regina and Emma. Here, under the stars. We can sleep in the castle tomorrow. But for tonight, please, stay here with me?”

Regina stared at her, trying to work out if Emma was joking. She looked completely serious. Regina couldn’t remember ever spending the night outdoors. She had slept in a tent, rolled up in blankets on the ground, through many campaigns. But never out in the open air. And she had certainly never taken a lover like that either. But Emma looked so earnest, Regina knew she would acquiesce. 

“You will at least permit a blanket,” she said acerbically. “And I reserve the right to use magic if it gets too cold or uncomfortable.”

Emma’s response was to kiss her thoroughly, and to keep kissing her until they heard Rufus calling them to lunch from a strategically discrete distance.

 

***

 

Emma crept into the bedroom in bare feet, her muddy boots left outside the door behind her. She had chased the miscreant who had been setting fires to the fields halfway across the mountains before she’d run him to ground in the swampy marshlands. She had missed bedtime and she had missed dinner with Regina. But she had caught him and made it back home safely. Regina would forgive her.

She had washed off the worst of the mud in the kitchen, upending bucket after bucket over her head until the water ran clean. Cook had stoked the fire till it roared, and she had sat in front of it, eating a hearty stew, until she was only slightly damp. She could have gone to the cottage and spent the night there, but Regina did not like waking up without her, especially if she had been out tracking down a criminal the night before. So Emma came home, cleaned herself up, and crept into their bedroom.

Gruff raised his head and gave a quiet, welcoming whimper. She paused long enough to pat his head; satisfied, he slipped back to sleep. He did not stray from his position in the doorway that led to the nursery, so Emma stepped over him, needing to see her children. Henry was old enough now to understand that sometimes Ma could not make it home in time to say goodnight, even though she tried very hard. The twins were young enough that having Regina to sing and read to them would have been enough to get them happily to sleep. But she still wanted to say goodnight, to press gentle kisses to all their foreheads, and let them know she was home with them. 

She made her way back to the bed where Regina lay sleeping, stripping out of her damp clothing as she went. They could argue about the untidy piles in the morning. She slipped between the sheets, drawn immediately to the radiating warmth of Regina’s body. She was loathe to touch her though, her cold skin would likely wake her.

But Regina turned, her open eyes glinting faintly in the moonlight that shone through the glass ceiling.

“Are you hurt?” she whispered.

“No. Just cold.”

“Come here,” she drew Emma close, shivering slightly when her body touched Emma’s cool skin. She rubbed her hands along Emma’s back and sides. The sheriff sighed and let the warmth soak through her.

She was home, with her family, and safe in the arms of the woman she loved. She didn’t know if this was her happy ending, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. For a story that was intended to get me through a writer's block, this grew into something really different than the light-hearted riff on Cinderella I had originally envisioned! Thank you all for sticking with it to the ending. I hope it didn't disappoint! 
> 
> (and yes, a roll in the hay. yes. totally intentional. may the gods of puns forgive me)


End file.
